Burden
by Lia76
Summary: Sam is obsessed with saving Dean from his deadly fate, but it soon appears that he may be the one who needs saving first … or else. Set after Season Two in my season Three. Part 2: Bring Me to Life is complete. Part 3: Mind Games is in progress.
1. The Wishing Tree

**"Burden"**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, and profit from nothing, related to CW's "Supernatural," and write for enjoyment only.

**Warning:** This story refers to events that occurred in the Season Two finale, and takes place immediately following that episode.

**Chapter One: "The Wishing Tree"**

Sam stood in the doorway to Dean's makeshift bedroom and watched his big brother sleep on the old cot, just as he did every early morning since that night in the cemetery three weeks ago when they killed the Yellow Eyed Demon. They had been staying at Bobby's since then, Ellen too, to prepare for the fight against the army of demons that had been released from Hell's gate. Many hunters had been in and out since then, Bobby's place having become the unofficial headquarters. Progress had been slow and information little, but that was still more than Sam could say for his vow to save Dean from the deal he made to bring him back to life.

It baffled him how Dean could sleep so soundly night after night with all that had happened. Sam, set up in the attic on a sleeping bag, got two or three hours of sleep a night at best, when his mind was finally too exhausted to think and his eyes too blurry to read his laptop screen. He understood now, never really understanding before, what it must feel like for Dean knowing his father died to save his life. He wouldn't let Dean die for him in a year and his soul to suffer in Hell forever. He just wouldn't. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, trying in vain, he knew, to dispel the forever nagging headache that had begun about two and a half weeks ago. It had started as a dull ache that came and went but now that ache was constant. Advil had helped at first, but he had given up after realizing that he was up to ten a day with no significant benefit. It worried him a bit, but not enough to tell Dean or waste any energy on thinking about it.

As the morning sun rose, light filtered in through the blinds eventually casting a glow over Dean's face. He stirred and then shot up in bed when he saw Sam watching him.

"Jesus! You scared me! You want to give me a heart attack and Fed Ex me to Hell early?" Dean said, a smile on his lips. The smile quickly left his lips when he saw Sam wasn't smiling. Whoops, Dean thought. Bobby hadn't found that type of humor amusing either.

"What's wrong?" Dean said as he ran a hand over his face, now covered with stubble.

"Nothing. I was just going to make some breakfast and wanted to see if you were awake," Sam answered smoothly. Dean knew better, of course, and looked more intently at his baby brother. Sam looked like he had already made a round trip to Hell and back. Sammy locked eyes with him only for a moment before looking down, pretending to concentrate on the difficult task of shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. With this motion, Sam's shirt pulled tighter on his torso, and Dean noticed for the first time that he looked thinner than he remembered.

"You sure you're okay?" Dean said as he got up from the bed. He grabbed his clothes off of the floor after smelling them and deeming them acceptable.

"I'm fine," Sam said. I'm not the one dead in a year, he thought.

"Uh huh. Well, I'm going to go shower. Save me some eggs or something," Dean said, deciding to let the subject drop for now

"Sure. See you later then," Sam said as he left.

Sam had no intention of eating breakfast, however, and went to find Bobby after he heard Dean turn on the shower. He found Bobby working on one of his cars in the garage.

"Hey Bobby," Sam said as he leaned against a nearby workbench.

"How's it going, Sam?" Bobby asked without looking up from the car engine. Bobby hated to take time away from the preparations, but the repairs paid the bills.

Sam paused, not sure of where to begin.

"I need your help…to fix something," Sam began.

"Fix what?" Bobby asked, still distracted with the engine.

"Dean. Me. It's all wrong," he answered.

Bobby put down his tools, wiped his hands on a nearby rag, and looked at the youngest Winchester.

"What are you talking about?" He asked.

"I'm not supposed to be here. Dean's not supposed to die in a year. How do I fix it?" Sam looked Bobby right in the eyes so he would know that he was serious. Bobby sighed, he could see the kid was struggling to keep it all together. He had been noticing it for the past couple of weeks now. He wondered when Sam would approach him with this very conversation.

"Sam, we'll do our best to find a way to keep Dean alive. But for now, you know we have to focus all of our attention on stopping the demon army or none of us will be here in a year," Bobby answered, putting his had on Sam's shoulder.

"I don't think you understand. This has to be done now. I can't think about anything else. I need some help here. Just point me in the right direction. Please," Sam said, not caring if he sounded like he was pleading. Because he knew he was pleading.

"Look, why don't you lie down for awhile? You don't look so good," Bobby advised. Sam roughly shrugged out from under Bobby's hand and punched the nearby wall. He would not be babied. Bobby's eyes widened at the uncharacteristic display of aggression.

"I told you Bobby. It's all wrong!" Sam yelled.

"Sam!" Sam spun around at the sound of Dean's voice. "What the hell are you yelling about? What's all wrong?"

"Just leave me alone!" Sam muttered as he stormed out of the garage.

Dean began to walk after him, but Bobby stopped him.

"Just let him go for awhile. He'll be no good to talk to like that," Bobby explained.

"I'm worried about him," Dean said as he watched Sam disappear into Bobby's graveyard of cars.

"We all got a lot to worry about," Bobby said as he went back to working on the engine.

Sam began to run, the cool rain a welcome feeling on his face and neck. Sam remembered Dean smiling about his joke that morning. Sam felt alone in his burden, almost as if it was all a practical joke that no one told him was over. He slowed to a fast walk when he finally reached the weeping willow tree at the far corner of Bobby's property. He had found this spot the second night they had been there and he immediately found it special for a reason he could not put into words. It was there that he prayed everyday, sometimes twice, for a way to save his brother. No answer had come to him yet, and a nagging voice in the back of his mind told him that he would not be the one to save Dean. He was afraid that the voice was right, and it scared him. They had saved so many others on their hunts, was there no way to save themselves?

He kneeled by the tree, ignoring the mud, and clasped his hands together. He closed his eyes as he began to pray. Tears fell from his eyes as they did every time, joining the rain already running down his face. Please, God, please help me…


	2. No Chick Flick Moments

**Chapter Two: No Chick Flick Moments**

Sam walked back slowly to Bobby's house, after spending a few hours in one of the abandoned cars to escape the rain. The sound of the rain hitting the windshield had been hypnotizing and he had actually caught a couple of hours of blessedly dreamless sleep. Unfortunately, the dull headache was still present when he woke up. He was embarrassed now of his emotional display in front of Bobby and Dean, and hoped neither of them would try to make him talk about it. All he wanted to do now was change out of his dirty clothes and get back to research. He had been less and less involved with helping the others with the war against the demons as the days passed, and no one had harassed him about it. He hadn't decided yet if that was a good sign or not. It was not that he didn't recognize the gravity of the situation, but to him, at that moment, the scale was far tipped to Dean. He entered through the back door to avoid the kitchen where most of the papers were laid out and the meetings took place. His return didn't go unnoticed, however.

"Sam, honey? Come join us for lunch," Ellen called to him. Change clothes, yes. Research, yes. Conversations and laughter over a big meal? No thanks, Sam thought. He had never been a big eater. That was Dean. And he was in no mood for fake happiness.

"No thanks, I uh, have something I need to check on," He yelled back as he pulled down the steps to the attic and began to climb up. He paused for a moment when he heard no response. Thank God for small favors.

No sooner had he pulled on a new shirt and pants, he heard someone climbing up the wood steps. He knew who it was before the person begun to speak.

"Sam?" Dean said before he reached the top, to give his brother some warning.

"Yeah?" Sam said tiredly, trying not to sound too annoyed at being interrupted. He didn't feel like talking to Dean right now. If he felt like pretending everything was okay, he would have sat down to lunch with them. Normally Sam would be the first one to want to discuss feelings, but not anymore. Looking at Dean hurt him now, but he could stand it when Dean was sleeping. Talking to him hurt even more.

Dean watched as Sam ungraciously sat down on his sleeping bag, and he felt bad once again that he had at least got the cot. They had all agreed, of course, that Ellen should get the only real spare bed, but Sam had insisted that Dean get the cot. He didn't even want to rock, paper, scissors for it. And he hadn't even complained once. He wondered how much sleeping Sam did anyway these days. Dean usually fell asleep to the muffled sounds of Sam typing on his laptop. He'd have to confiscate it one of these nights or something, to give Sam nothing else to do but sleep.

"I want to talk to you," Dean said as he sat on a cardboard box near Sam.

"So talk," Sam said. Dean paused, momentarily put off by Sam's overall unusual demenor.

"Are you mad at me or something? What the hell is going on with you?" Dean asked. The words came out almost sounding angry, when all Dean felt was concern.

"No chick flick moments, remember?" Sam said with a forced smile. Dean smiled too, waiting for Sam to spill his guts. The smile quickly left his face when Sam didn't.

"So that's it? You're going to shut me out?" Dean said. "You know, I gave up my soul for you little brother and I expect some gratitude," He said with a smile, hoping that a bit of his usual sarcastic humor would do the trick. Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect that Dean hoped. A _very_ opposite effect.

Sam stood quickly, tears springing to his eyes.

"I _do_ have gratitude Dean! I'm doing _everything_ I can to save you!! I wish you and everybody else cared a bit more!" Sam turned away and wiped his eyes. So much for no chick flick moments, Sam thought bitterly.

Dean's eyes widened in surprise. Sam seemed to be wound so tight that he would explode at any moment.

"Sammy, I was kidding. Relax. Look, I appreciate everything you're doing, but I'm worried about you. You're not yourself lately," Dean explained.

"Then who am I, huh? I hope that I'm now someone who can save my brother instead of killing him!" Sam yelled back after turning to face Dean.

"You didn't kill me! I'm still here. And I made that deal because _I_ wanted to," Dean said. "And I'd do it again, without any hesitation."

"I will save you Dean, or I'll die trying," Sam vowed quietly, tears threatening to fall again. Dean shook his head.

"No one's dying Sammy. Look, let's just do one thing at a time. Stop this war first and save me after, okay?" Dean said.

Sam laughed, but there was no happiness in it.

"That's what Bobby said too. What, you two compare notes before talking to me?" Sam accused.

"You have come up in conversation, I won't deny that. But only because you're…" Dean paused to think of how to put what he wanted to say into words.

"Not myself lately, I know! You already covered that! Then who am I, Dean? Who _did_ you bring back from the dead? Isn't that what Yellow Eyes asked you?" Sam spat out the words.

"How did you know that?" Dean asked, shocked. Sam could not have heard the Yellow Eyed Demon that night in the cemetery. He was too far away.

Sam opened his mouth to answer, but then closed it. He didn't know how he knew it. He just did. He was tired of this conversation, and his headache had progressed to a throbbing on the right side. Sam sighed.

"Can we talk more later? I'm really tired, okay?" Sam asked. He had no intention of sleeping, but knew that he looked like he should be. Dean would probably buy it.

"We are _not_ done Sam. We _will_ talk later," Dean said as he stood up and walked toward the steps. He turned back before heading down.

"And thanks," Dean said.

"For what?" Sam asked, confused.

"For trying to help me, even if you are a pain in the ass," Dean climbed down the steps and didn't see Sam smiling. His first real smile in a long time.

**Thanks for reading and please continue to review! Much more action, drama, and angst (of course) to come as I get to the meat of the story!**


	3. Reality of Nightmares

**Chapter 3: Reality of Nightmares**

Sam left Bobby's to make his usual early morning walk to the weeping willow tree. The sun was shining brightly, enveloping him in feelings of safety and warmth that he hadn't felt for a very long time. All seemed peaceful and quiet, and the headache was blessedly gone as well. As he arrived at his destination, he was momentarily distracted from his routine as a strong gust of wind blew the weeping willow branches back and forth, back and forth, back and forth… Sam was mesmerized by the motion. The sun passed overhead momentarily blinding him. When the sun slipped behind a fluffy white cloud, he could see again. However, the branches were no longer branches at all, but long locks of golden blonde hair flowing in the breeze…

Mary Winchester closed her eyes as she leaned against the beautiful weeping willow tree. She loved this warm weather, as much as John and little Dean loved their cars. She was happy to let them visit with Bobby in his garage while she got a rare moment alone far away from engine oil and other unpleasant smells. Couldn't be good for the baby. She rubbed her stomach and smiled. She was so excited to have another baby. A little brother or sister for her son to play with, grown with. She looked forward to having many more children. Maybe six or seven. She laughed to herself. Maybe three or four was more realistic. What would their new child be like? She began to doze and a small journal fell from her lap, spilling open on the ground.

Shaking, unsure of how he was seeing what he was seeing, Sam knelt down next to his young mother. After staring at her beautiful face for a moment, his eyes were drawn to the journal, easily able to read the two page entry.

_April 27, 1983_

_Today was a wonderful day! Dean drew me the cutest picture, although I'm not quite which scribble is me and which is John! We also visited the doctor today. I expect it to be one of the final visits before the newest addition to our family is born.. …_

Suddenly, instead of reading the words on the page, Sam found himself in a doctor's examination room with his mother, father, and little Dean. Mary was laying down on a long metal table and John was sitting nearby in an orange plastic chair. Loud wallpaper covered the walls. He fought back tears as he listened to his mother and father laughing as his brother danced around the room with two cotton balls shoved up his nose.

"Good Morning Mr. and Mrs. Winchester," The doctor said as he entered the room, not yet looking up from a manila folder that partially obscured his face from Sam. Little Dean ran into his legs and fell down. Startled, Dean ran back to his father and snuggled in his lap. Everyone laughed. So did Sam.

"How are we feeling today, hmm?" He said as he sat down on a chair and rolled over to her, his back to everyone but Mary.

"Great. Thank you. I can't wait for him or her to be born already!" Mary said as the doctor began his examination.

"Picked out any names yet?" The doctor inquired.

"Samuel or Jessica," John answered as he struggled to keep his squirming son on his lap.

"You know, if you ask me, I think you're going to have a boy," He said after a few minutes of the examination. "Just a professional guess, of course," the doctor added with a smile.

"Oh, really? My husband would like that so he can finally start his own football team," Mary said with a smile. John laughed.

"Well, I don't know about that. I think he will accomplish many great things, but I'm not sure if they involve football," the doctor said.

"Book smart like his mother then?" asked John, still laughing.

The doctor finished his exam and scribbled something on the chart.

"Yes, _very_ smart. Thanks for coming in today and I'll see you next week," He turned around and looked directly at Sam with yellow eyes and smiled. Suddenly the room lit up in flames, and his mother reached out to Sam, blood spreading across her stomach like cracks in glass.

"I'm sorry, Sam…" Mary whispered…

Sam shot up in the sleeping bag, immediately assaulted with a deafening ringing in his ears and a splitting headache. He was gulping for air, finding it hard to breathe. What had just happened? Had it all been just a dream? He didn't even remember falling asleep. He quickly pulled off his shirt that now felt like it was strangling him. It was soaked with sweat. His heart pounded and he wiped away tears of pain and frustration. Grabbing his head with both hands, he willed himself to calm down. It wasn't working. He crawled over to the window and opened it. Cool evening air met his face and he immediately felt some relief. He could feel his heart rate slow and his breathing become less labored. The ringing in his ears began to lessen, as well as the headache, but only a little. He said down, his back against the wall, under the open window. He put his head in his hands as he struggled to comprehend what was going on, what was happening to him. Was it just a dream, or had he somehow looked into his past? After a few minutes, he forced himself to grab some clothes and head down to shower, praying he didn't run into anyone along the way.

Sam headed to the living room after his shower, thinking he should at least make an appearance that day.

"Hey, Sammy," Dean said, patting the cushion. "Come look at this. Tips have been coming in all day. Looks like the demons are finally getting restless," Sam sat down on the couch next to Dean. Ellen sat across from them in an old armchair and Bobby stood over her shoulder.

"What do you got?" Sam asked. He was interested, although the constant headache and ringing in his ears was fairly distracting.

Dean pointed at a large map on the small, scratched wooden table in front of them. "These x's mark spots where demonic omens have been turning up. We're not sure yet what it all means, or if there is even a pattern, but it has to mean something," Dean said excitedly.

Sam looked at the map for a moment in silence and then cocked his head. He took the pen out of Dean's hand without a word.

"Bobby, do you have a ruler?" Sam asked.

Bobby nodded and got up to grab a ruler from a drawer in the kitchen. When he returned, he handed it to Sam.

"What is it, Sam?" Ellen asked.

Sam leaned in and began to draw lines on the map without answering. When he was done, he sat back up.

"Good Lord," Bobby said, summing up everyone's thoughts. The lines drawn from the x's all intersected at one place. The town where Bobby lived.

"What do you think it means Bobby?" Ellen asked, in awe.

"A better question is how did you know to draw those lines like that? There wasn't any pattern that we could find, Sam," Dean paused, waiting for his little brother to answer. "Sam!" he said louder when Sam didn't.

"What? Dean, what? I don't have the answers you want, okay? I don't know them myself!" Sam responded a little too loudly. Sam watched as Dean exchanged glances with Bobby. Dean_ used_ to exchange looks with him like that. He exhaled an angry sigh. His already short fuse was now burned down to the end. Funny how they were linked together about as close as two people could be, because they were brothers and because of the pact, yet he had never felt so alienated from Dean as he did at that moment. He missed Dean. He missed how their lives had been, as crazy and messed up as they were.

"Let's just all calm down now, okay?" Ellen said in an effort to cool down the situation. "We're all on edge here." No one spoke for a moment, all trying to put some understanding to the situation.

"Maybe the demons know that we're heading up the attack from here, so they're mobilizing around us. Wouldn't do them no good though. We're good and protected here. Salt, devil's traps, and other goodies all around the property. Well, I've got some calls to make," Bobby said.

"I'll help," Ellen said as she followed Bobby out of the room.

**Next chapter coming very soon so keep reading and reviewing! Thanks to you all for the support!**


	4. Rising

**Chapter 4: Rising**

Dean and Sam sat almost shoulder to shoulder on Bobby's couch in silence. Dean stole a glance at his brother who was staring ahead. Dean opened his mouth to speak and then shut it again, trying to find the right words to continue their earlier conversation. He wasn't just worried about Sam anymore; he was scared as Hell. It felt awkward between them now somehow, and he felt like he was losing Sam. Losing him to what he didn't know, and that scared him too.

"You know I'm going to be okay, right? Knowing you, you'll find a way to save me, but you can't help me if you kill yourself first," Dean said as he turned to his brother.

"Sammy?" Dean said when his brother didn't respond.

"Earth to Sam! What the Hell is going on? Talk to me please, God damn it!" Dean yelled.

"I thought you didn't believe in God," Sam said calmly.

Dean shook his head in frustration.

"I want my brother back Sammy, I'm half inclined to throw holy water on you to see if you're possessed! Look, we need you._ I_ need you. I'll help you any way that I can, you know that. But you have _got_ to talk to me!" Dean exclaimed.

"Did you ever come here with Mom and Dad before I was born?" Sam asked.

"What?" Dean said, confused. Talk about random change of subject.

"Do you remember visiting Bobby here, spending time with him and Dad in the garage?" Sam asked again.

"Uh, yeah. I guess so. I mean we've been coming here off and on for as long as I can remember. Why?" Dean asked.

"Hmm," was the only response Dean got before Sam stood up to leave. Dean considered hitting Sam at that moment, maybe he could knock some sense loose, but didn't. Dean clenched and unclenched his jaw for a good five minutes before he felt that he was calm enough to at least be of some use to Bobby and Ellen.

Sam looked out the attic window, taking a break from the research. The glow of the laptop screen was the only light in the room. Could the dream have been true? If so, it meant that his family had met the Yellow Eyed Demon at least once before the nursery fire. What did it all mean? Why did he dream it now? A white flash in the otherwise black night sky caught his eye. The ringing in his ears suddenly peaked to an unbearable screeching sound. He fell to his knees, grabbing his ears. As quickly as it had all started, the deafening sound stopped after his ears popped. Then, all was quiet. His headache was even gone. He had almost forgotten what it was like not to have one. He pulled his hands away and was only mildly startled to see some blood on them. He looked around when his ears began to fill with sounds of whispering. Voices? But where were they coming from and what were they saying?

"Creak!" Dean's eyes shot open when he heard the sound. Bobby's house was old, and even an ant walking across the old wooden floorboards could raise the dead. He laid still for a moment and listened.

"Creak!" He swung his legs over the side of the cot when he heard it again. Someone or something was walking past his doorway. He pulled on his jeans, and grabbed his curved knife from his duffle bag. He shoved it in the back wasteband of his jeans. He also grabbed his shotgun, already loaded with rock salt, not sure of what he would find out there. After a few moments of listening to the creaking noises grow softer and softer, he slowly opened his door and peered out, gun raised, just in time to see a shadow turn the corner.

"What do we got, Dean?" Bobby whispered from behind him.

"Don't know," Dean whispered back. "But something just went around the corner."

They walked slowly down the hallway, passing Ellen's room on the way. She got her gun and then followed behind Bobby. Dean heard the front door open and close quietly.

Guess the son-of-a-bitch, whatever it was, didn't want them to wake them. How nice.

As they neared the front door, Dean motioned to Bobby and Ellen to get on either side of the wooden frame. He flung open the door. What he saw next was the last thing he expected to see.

They all slowly lowered their guns when they saw Sam. He was clad only in plaid flannel boxer shorts, staring up at the sky as he slowly walked away from the house. The wind was fierce that night and Sam's dark hair whipped about his face.

"Sam?" Dean said gently. "What are you doing out here?" Dean continued to move closer to his brother, Bobby and Ellen hanging back.

Sam stopped walking at the sound of Dean's voice, but did not turn around.

"Do you hear anything, Dean? I can hear something, voices I think, but I can't quite make them out, not yet," Sam responded.

"Sam, come back inside and we'll talk about it," Dean said, almost to Sam now.

"The voices are too quiet in there. I can hear better out here," Sam explained.

Dean walked around Sam to face him, and could see the dried blood coming from his ears.

"Sam, you're bleeding!" Dean exclaimed.

"Shhh! I can't hear them if you're talking!" Sam said, annoyed.

Dean looked back at Bobby and Ellen.

"They're not surrounding us because we're preparing an attack," Bobby declared after a moment, eyes widening. "They've come for Sam, their promised soldier! They can't get in, so they're trying to get him out!"

**Next chapter coming soon! PLEASE continue to read and review and give me helpful tips. Thanks to all!**


	5. So It Begins

**Chapter 5: So It Begins**

"Well, they can't have him! Help me get him inside!" Dean yelled to Bobby.

Bobby and Dean half dragged, half pulled Sammy back inside. Ellen held open the door, looking out once last time before shutting and locking the door. Once inside, they lowered Sam onto the couch. Ellen rushed to get a blanket off of the nearby chair as Bobby hurried to the kitchen.

"Cold," Sam shattered as he leaned back against the cushions and closed his eyes.

"Here sugar," Ellen said as she wrapped the fabric around him.

Bobby put a first aid kit down on the coffee table and then held out a shot glass.

"Bobby, give him a minute, will you?" Dean asked angrily.

Bobby's extended arm did not move.

"You know the rules, Dean. Anyone in or out of here or acting just plain crazy has to drink up," Bobby reminded him.

"It's okay," Sam said quietly and took the holy water. Downing it quickly, the others were relieved to see no adverse reaction.

Ellen began to wipe the dried blood from Sam's ears and neck, after doing a quick once over of the area to make sure there were no other injuries.

"What the Hell, Sam?" Dean said. "You scared the crap out of us!"

"What do you remember?" Bobby asked.

Sam suddenly sat up and cocked his head to the side, as if listening to something.

He looked up, as if remembering then that Bobby had asked him a question.

"I was in the attic, doing some research on the computer. Well, maybe I should start from the beginning," Sam decided.

"Thank you!" Dean exclaimed. "Finally!" Bobby, Ellen, and Sam looked at Dean, not amused by his interruption.

"Sorry," Dean said.

"I have been having headaches lately, but I thought it was due to lack of sleep. I've been doing a lot of research like I said…" Sam started to explain. He paused for a moment and the others knew that research was probably not the only thing that had kept him awake.

"Then my ears started ringing and I tried to ignore it, but it got worse. The headaches got worse too, much worse. I had a dream, and it really confused me…"

"Is that why you asked me about visiting Bobby before you were born?" Dean asked, hoping everyone would excuse his interruption this time.

"Yes," Sam said.

"Tell us about the dream," Bobby said.

Sam relayed the dream to them and everyone was silent for a moment, thinking about what it could mean, if it could be true.

"When did you start hearing the voices?" Ellen asked.

"Tonight. Whispers at first. I went outside because I knew they would be easier to hear. Guess that was a stupid move," Sam said, looking up at Dean.

"Damn right it was stupid. The last of many stupid moves. From now on, you tell us when freaky crap starts to happen. You got that, Sammy. _When_ they happen," Dean reiterated, putting his hand on his little brother's shoulder to soften his words. Sam smiled and Dean felt instant relief. Sam had one of those smiles that could light up a room. He had missed it.

"Got it," Sam agreed.

"You hear anything now?" Bobby asked.

Sam looked at Bobby and then to Dean and back to Bobby. He wanted so much to tell Dean what he wanted to hear. But he had just made a promise.

"Yes," Sam clenched his jaw, purposely not looking back at Dean. "Not as loud as before, but I still hear it,"

Dean stood up and shook his head.

"Look, we've got to get a handle on this now. It is _far_ from over," Bobby stated. "All we know now is… that it has begun."

Dean would not take "no" for an answer. Sam was glad he gave in when his weary body laid down on the cot. It was A LOT better than a sleeping bag on the floor. He would be right back to his routine in the morning, whether Dean liked it or not, but he thought he might as well get some sleep. Dean had hid his laptop after all. Dean and Bobby stayed up the rest of the night after Sam and Ellen went to bed. Bobby was glad for Dean's help to search through some all old books for any insight into what was happening to Sam, and what it might mean for them. Dean had an ulterior motive though. He wanted to make sure Sammy didn't make any more unannounced strolls outside.

Tonight reminded Dean of the time he slept in front of the motel room door after he found six year old Sam wandering around in the parking lot at 4AM, carrying his teddy bear and wearing his old Muppets jacket, announcing that he was going to find Daddy. Dean had let his guard down then, like he had tonight, but it was game on now, bitches. If the demons were as smart as they thought they were, they'd forfeit right now.

Sam was awakened by a tapping on his window a few hours later. He winced as he got out of bed, his body protesting the early rising. His breath caught in his throat, unbelieving what his eyes were seeing.

"Dad?" He could easily see his dad through the glass.

"Hurry, son. Wipe the salt away from the windowsill so I can come in. I have urgent news!" John exclaimed.

Sam hesitated momentarily, still stunned to see his father.

"Now Sam!" he insisted

"Dean-"

"I don't have much time, please! You can tell him later!" Sam looked into the teary eyes of his father and he blinked back tears as well. He wiped away the salt and stepped away from the window...

**Please continue to read and review, it's brain food for me! Stay tuned, much more action and angst to come!**


	6. Break

**Chapter 6: Break**

Slam! Dean and Bobby shot out of their kitchen chairs at the sound of a door slamming from somewhere in the house. Dean's chair crashed to the floor as he grabbed his gun. He and Bobby raced past a couple of open doors until they reached Sam's room. His door was shut.

"Dean!" Dean heard Sam scream his name from inside. A scream full of pain and fear. A scream that made Dean's blood turn to ice.

Dean turned the knob, but it would not open. He pounded on the door.

"Sam!" Dean yelled. He stepped back and kicked the door. It did not budge. He looked at Bobby. Together they charged at the door again. Nothing. One, two, three, four more times they kicked at the door until they were finally successful.

Dean's gun waivered and he momentarily froze when he saw his father standing over Sam, watching him and smiling. Sam was curled up in a ball on the floor. He was writhing around as if in pain, hands to his ears, with blood trickling from his mouth, ears, and nose.

"Dad?" Dean could not believe his eyes. John face twisted into an ugly grimace and he suddenly charged at the men, as if only just aware that the men entered the room after hearing Dean speak.

"Get the Hell out of my house, Demon!" Bobby yelled as he shot "John" with rock salt just in time. The demon dissipated on contact and Sam went limp. Dean rushed to Sam's side as Bobby rushed to the windowsill and replaced the salt.

"Sammy?" Dean said, silently pleading for his little brother to be okay. Why did he leave him alone?

"Sammy!" Dean said again, louder this time, pulling his brother's head and shoulders into his lap.

Sam groaned and stirred.

"Dad," Sam rasped.

"That wasn't dad Sam; that was a demon. What the Hell were you thinking, letting it in? I can't leave you alone for a second! You said you weren't going to make any more dumb mistakes! You said you would-,"

"Dean!" Ellen yelled from the doorway. "Stop shaking him!"

Dean gasped as he realized that he had been shaking Sam's shoulders. Sam looked close to losing consciousness again.

"I'm sorry Sammy," Dean said, cursing himself for such thoughtless behavior. Is it too much to ask for his only brother to be left alone and his last year with him uneventful?

"Dean-," Sam said quietly.

"Don't talk now. Let us get you help first," Dean answered.

"I'll call my doctor friend," Bobby said as he turned to leave.

"No," Sam said, his voice stronger now. "I'm okay," he insisted. Sam moved in an attempt to get up. Bobby and Dean grabbed his arms and helped him to the cot. Dean handed Sam a handkerchief from his back pocket and Sam began to wipe away the blood.

"I'm sorry. I thought….I thought he came to me to tell us how to fight the demons. We saw him in the cemetery. It could have been him," Sam said, his voice cracking. He took a deep breath to calm himself. He felt stupid now. He should have known better. He was just so tired, not thinking straight, but he had to be more careful.

"It's okay Sam. All of us here have been fooled by much less. What I don't get is how it even got as close as your window? I had the whole perimeter of this property protected," Bobby said as he shook his head.

"Could be any number of reasons," Ellen said. She turned to Sam. "Did it tell you anything about their plans?" she asked.

Sam winced and grabbed his head again. He swayed for a moment and Dean put his hand on Sam's shoulder.

"I'm okay," Sam said after a moment of composing himself. "I think I know what they want with me now, what the Yellow Eyed Demon planned for all along for his 'little' soldier."

"How do you know?" Dean asked.

"It was overwhelming. Excruciating. But... but maybe if I tried hard enough I could learn to control it, to use it against them. But I _can't _do it from here. I _can't_ hear well enough," Sam explained, the words coming out quickly as he looked up at Dean.

"Slow down! What are you talking about? Hear who? Hear what? The voices you talked about before? And just to make one thing clear, you are NOT leaving here," Dean said as he sat down next to Sam.

"Look, Dean. When I let Dad inside, I mean let the demon inside, I was immediately assaulted by a deafening sound. Voices. All yelling and talking over each other. Much louder than before. I could even make out some of what was being said, but not much. I think I was hearing the demons trying to communicate with each other through me to mobilize! And then--" Sam said.

"And then what?" Dean asked.

**As usual, thanks to all who read and review my stories. You are the BEST!!!**


	7. Medium

"_L__ook, Dean. When I let Dad inside, I mean let the demon inside, I was immediately assaulted by a deafening sound. Voices. All yelling and talking over each other. Much louder than before. I could even make out some of what was being said, but not much. I think I was hearing the demons trying to communicate with each other through me to mobilize! And then--" Sam said._

_"And then what?" Dean asked._

**Chapter 7: Medium**

"I saw her," Sam said softly, almost a whisper.

"Saw who?" Dean asked.

"Mom! Her image flashed in my mind!" Sam exclaimed, looking at his big brother.

"Sam," Dean sighed and shook his head, getting frustrated now. "It _wasn't_ Mom like it _wasn't_ Dad. It was the demons messing with you."

"No, Dean. I think it really was her! I could feel it! Maybe she's trying to tell me something! I dreamed about her, didn't' I? Why would the demons do that?" Sam said.

"I don't know, because they're evil?" Dean said sarcastically, standing now.

"Dean, I think she-," Sam rushed to hypothesize his thoughts into something tangible.

"No, Sam. NO! I'm SO tired of this! You know better! You need to STOP! I can't watch you every second of the day, so I NEED you to snap out of it!" Dean yelled, pacing angrily in front of the cot. This is NOT happening, Dean thought. He was supposed to have eleven months left, but it felt like he was already in Hell.

"Listen to me!" Sam yelled back.

"I'm…going…to…go…now. When…I…come…back, you…will…NOT… mention…this…crap…again. I'm…DONE!" Dean said through clenched teeth, before storming out the room.

Sam looked down at the floor in silence. It was careless of him to let in the demon without getting Dean first, yes. He recognizes that. But as soon as the demon entered, it did feel all wrong. But when he saw his mother, it soothed him, made the pain just a little bit less. It felt right.

"Sam, this is important," Bobby said as he walked closer to Sam. "You said that you thought they were trying to communicate with each other through you?"

Sam nodded.

"Have you ever heard of anything like that?" Sam asked, hoping the experienced hunter might have some insight into the situation.

"Nothing on this scale. I am, of course, familiar with the concept of mediumship. There are several types of mediumship. Mental mediumship is communication of spirits with a medium by telepathy. The medium mentally "hears", "sees", and feels messages from spirits. The medium then passes on the information. This is a bit different than that…" Bobby said, his voice trailing off. He paused for a moment, deep in thought, before continuing.

"You told me before that the Yellow Eyed Demon came to you in your dream and took you back to your nursery the night of the fire. You saw him drip his blood into your mouth. If the dream you had with your mother was also real, maybe the Demon sensed your psychic abilities then, but amplified them with his blood. Or maybe his blood served as a marker, for you and for the other children like you, for demons to locate you," Bobby guessed. "Sam, we have a lot of work to do. I hate to say it, but as much as that Demon coming in here hurt you, it may have led us to our first solid lead."

Sam nodded.

"Don't worry Sam. Dean'll come around. I got to get back to my books," Bobby said. He had told the Winchester brothers before that the two of them were smack in the middle of the coming war. He just hadn't known how true it was at the time.

"Thanks, Bobby," Sam said as he leaned back to lie down again. He was even more exhausted then before if that was possible.

"One more question for you Sam, if you feel up to it," Ellen said after Bobby left the room. She had been standing next to the closet door and Sam half forgot that she was even in the room.

"Sure Ellen," he said with a yawn as he propped himself up on his elbow.

"Did you hear anything else about the demons' actual plan?" Ellen asked.

"I wish I did, but no. I heard only bits and pieces. Maybe it will make more sense to me after I sleep on it," Sam said.

"Okay Sam, good night," she said. Sam was asleep before she shut the door, the mumbling demon voices like white noise to him now.

**Thank you so much for reading. PLEASE take a moment to review. It feeds my brain! Thank you!**


	8. Bond

**Chapter 8: Bond**

It was Dean who stood in the doorway and watched his brother sleep that morning, the sleeping bag he brought down from the attic still on the floor next to Sam's cot untouched. He knew it was wrong of him to lash out at Sam like he did hours before, but it was hard for him to not fall back on his favorite coping mechanism "angry Dean pushing away those he cares about to hide his feelings." He thought about the time he lashed out at Sam shortly after their father died, when little else seemed to exist for Dean outside of the overwhelming grief and guilt. This time, he felt fear and pain. It hurt him to see the demons manipulating Sam and using their parents to do it, and he still feared he would lose Sam to them.

He clenched his jaw again, a habit that he unconsciously did frequently now, vowing that he would NOT lose Sam to them. They would NOT win this war. But he recognized that he had to keep himself in check, now more than ever. He would support Sammy, help him, even if he didn't' agree with him one hundred percent. The bond he and Sam had as brothers made them stronger than their standing alone. He would NOT forget that again. He walked over and sat down on the sleeping bag, waiting for Sam to wake up. Dean would have humble pie for breakfast that morning.

Dean looked up when he heard Sam stir. He ducked when one of Sam's arms shot out over the side of the cot in a stretch. Sam groaned with the movement.

"Good morning Grandpa," Dean said with a laugh.

"Dean?" Sam said with a yawn. "What are you doing here?"

"Making sure you don't skip town," Dean said as he walked over to the window and looked out, making the observation that the salt was still in place. "Wouldn't blame you if you did though, after how I acted last night," Dean said, all humor gone now.

Sam sat up and rubbed his neck. The headache was back, but Sam gave it little thought now.

"Dean-," Sam started to reply.

"No, Sam. Let me finish, okay?" Dean asked. Sam nodded

"I've always known that as your big brother it was _my_ job to watch out for you. My biggest fear was always that something would happen to you. You know all that. I've said it all before so much that you're probably sick of hearing it. Everything else, no matter what insane creatures we hunted or whacked out situations we got mixed up in, I could handle it," Dean said as he turned to look at Sam.

"I thought that when I killed the Yellow Eyed Demon that you were _finally _safe. On some level, I almost didn't care if I was going to die in a year, because I knew that you would live and that we had avenged Mom's death. I had fulfilled my duty as a brother and a son. Sure, I knew that the war was coming and I would do all that I could to help stop it. But I didn't think that we were central in it all anymore. Then all this crap started happening to you and everything changed. I felt so helpless and when they used Mom and Dad against you...it was too much for me to handle and I snapped. I'm sorry. It won't happen again," Dean promised as he sat down next to Sam on the cot.

Sam was quiet for a moment as he processed Dean's words.

"I appreciate you being honest with me, Dean. But I haven't been innocent in all this either. You tried to talk to me before about what was going on and I shut you out. It was hard for me to look at you, let alone talk to you, because I was failing at finding a way to save you. I'm sorry for that and I promise I won't do that again. We need to work together and we can save you _and_ win this war. Bobby and I have been talking and we have some ideas that I want to talk to you about. And I want to talk to you more about seeing Mom," Sam said, hoping Dean would agree.

Dean nodded."Okay Sam.I'll listen, even if I might not agree," Dean promised.

"That's all I ask," Sam said, feeling immediate relief.

"Speaking of winning the war and killing demons, I have an idea that I want to research today too," Dean said seriously as he stood up.

"What?" asked Sam, all ears.

"You scaring them to straight back to Hell. Good God, man, When's the last time you got a haircut? Have you looked in the mirror?" Dean laughed as he felt Sam's pillow hit him in the back as he ran out the door.

**Thanks for reading! I promise that I will update soon with more drama, action, and angst. Please don't forget to review! **


	9. Secret

**Chapter 9: Secret **

The air was cool that morning when Sam left Bobby's house. He buttoned his flannel shirt and pulled up the collar as he made his way to the weeping willow tree. It had taken him a good half an hour to convince Dean that praying was something that he needed to do alone. Dean finally consented, but informed Sam that he had fifteen minutes, and fifteen minutes ONLY, until he dragged his ass back inside. Sam tenderly rubbed the tree before kneeling down next to it. It comforted him to know that his mother had been there before with him. It comforted him too to think that she may be there with him now, even if Dean didn't believe it. Sam closed his eyes to begin his daily prayer. He smiled as the mumbling voices ceased after he started to pray, giving him a rest from the incessant noise and dull pain. He thanked God for helping him and Dean to connect again. He asked God to help guide him as they searched for answers to save Dean, as well as to end the war. He didn't yet pray for himself, afraid to not have his prayer to save Dean answered first. When he heard a branch snap nearby, he stood quickly. He winced, the unrecognizable voices infilrating his mind once again. When he opened his eyes, he saw Ellen walking toward him.

"Sam," Ellen said, her voice quivering with emotion.

"Ellen," Sam said, confused. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm sorry. I wish there was another way," She said, tears starting to run down her cheeks.

"What are you talking-," Sam stopped in mid-sentence when Ellen pulled out a gun and pointed it at him.

"You need to come with me now," Ellen said. She was crying harder now, but her gun was steadily held at Sam's chest. Sam raised his hands.

"Why?" Sam said, desperately trying to buy some time until Dean came looking for him.

"I have no choice Sam. They gave me no choice," she said, wiping tears away.

"Let me help you Ellen. We can help you, whatever it is," Sam said gently.

"I'm sorry," she said again.

Sam's eyes widened when the realization hit him.

"It was _you_? You're the one who let the demon to my window?"

_"Did you hear anything else about the demons' actual plan?" _Sam then remembered Ellen asking him last night.

"Is that why you asked me if I had heard anything about their plans? You wanted to know if I heard that you were helping them," Sam said, putting more of it together now.

"I have no choice," she said again. "Now move," she said with more resolve now.

Sam started walking slowly, hoping that fifteen minutes would be up before he was off of Bobby's protected property. It scared him that the voices were getting louder now, and he tried not to focus on it. He had to stay sharp.

"When did they get to you?" Sam asked, his mind trying to put some kind of answer together. "The roadhouse-,"

"I was there when they came. They spared me, but made me watch it burn down. Made me listen to the screams of Ash and the other hunters," She explained, her voice catching in her throat. Sam saw that only a few hundred feet were left until it would be too late. His headache was almost unbearable now and he fought the urge to grab his head. He had to keep it together just a little bit longer until Dean came for him.

"But that night in the cementary. Jake was controlling you," Sam said.

"Yes, but he didn't know that after he opened the gate, they didn't need him anymore. They wanted you," she said. Sam's mind swam with her words.

"What are they holding over you? Jo?" Sam guessed, hoping the mention of her daughter's name would provide at least a momentary distraction. They were _so_ close to the edge of the property now.

"They told me that if I didn't help them get to you that they would take her. I called her and told her what they said. She wouldn't come here, saying that she could handle it. She doesn't understand what she's up against. I'm her mother. I have to protect her. She's all I got. I'm sorry, Sam" she said, more tears falling again.

"_I'm sorry, Sam" _Sam heard his mother's voice echoing in his mind from the dream. Had she been trying to warn him in some way? Sam stopped walking and turned back to face Ellen. Despite it all, he felt sorry for her, the position she was in. The demons had hurt them all, made them all do things that they didn't want to do. His mind flashed to the fear and shock in Jake's face as Sam shot him over and over again. It still haunted him. Had they influenced him somehow or was the Yellow Eyed Demon right that he was different now?

"I understand that you feel that you have no choice, but I know you don't want them to win. Just give me a little time to learn to control it. If I can use it against them somehow, we can win. You give me to them now, it's over for all of us. Just put the gun away and I won't tell anyone. I promise," Sam said.

"Sam!" Dean yelled, likely from somewhere near the house. "Where the Hell are you? This is no time for hide and seek!"

Sam looked at Ellen and waited. Her gun was still raised at him, but he could see the struggle in her face.

Sam could see his brother walking quickly toward them now. Ellen's back was to Dean.

"Sam! You and Ellen okay? Why are you so far from the house?" He yelled to them, getting closer now.

"We're fine," Sam said still looking at Ellen. She nodded and put her gun away just in time as Dean walked up to them.

"Ellen and I were just taking a walk, " Sam said. "Sorry to scare you."

"Well, come back to the house. Bobby wants to talk to us about what he found in his books. And next time, don't walk so close to the edge of the property," Dean said.

"Okay. You're right," Sam said. "Coming Ellen?" Sam asked, the simple question holding more meaning that his older brother knew.

"Yeah," She said. "I'm ready," She said as she followed behind the boys back to the house.

Sam sighed. Not even two hours had passsed and he had already broken his promise to Dean about not keeping things from him. Sure, he could turn Ellen in to Dean and Bobby, but he couldn't see what anyone would gain from that. Everyone makes mistakes. He's made a lot of them. The demons had already taken so much and all they had was each other now. It was time he face his role in this demon war _now_ and he hoped Bobby had some answers. They all had too much at stake.

**PLEASE take a quick moment to review! I much appreciate it! Stay tuned for much more excitement and angst to come!**


	10. Swing Low, Sweet Chariot

**Chapter 10: Swing Low, Sweet Chariot **

Sam reached out to open the front door and immediately regretted it. His arm shook with the effort, adrenaline now wearing off to reveal the toll the recent events had on his body. He quickly stepped inside and hoped that Dean hadn't noticed.

"Sammy, you okay? It was stupid of you to walk so close to the edge of the property," Dean said, not able to hide his concern. Of course Dean noticed, Sam thought. Ellen caught Sam's gaze as she walked past them to the kitchen, as if to convey again that she was sorry. Dean didn't notice that, Sam thought with relief.

Truth was that Sam's head was pounding and all he wanted to do at that moment was lay down.

"I'm fine, Dean," Sam said with a smile and as much enthusiasm as he could muster. "Thanks, though," he added to show that he appreciated the concern.

They walked into the kitchen, where piles of books and notes were spread across the table. Many of the books had yellowing pages that were crumbling and loose from their bindings. Bobby was an old school hunter, preferring print to the computer, and the large volume of books stacked around his house proved it. Sam and Dean sat down across from him and Ellen.

"This is the most comprehensive book I have about mediumship," Bobby said as he turned a large red fabric covered book toward Sam and Dean.

"Give us a rundown Bobby," Ellen said.

"Well, like I said before, mental mediumship involves communication between spirits and the medium. The medium mentally "hears", "sees", and "feels" messages from spirits. The book goes on to describe the definitions of the psychic senses according to the spiritualists," Bobby said as he opened the book to a bookmarked section about half way through.

"Here," he said, pointing to the text. "This section talks about one of the psychic senses, clairvoyance. Mediums with this ability can see things that are not actually there through the 'mind's eye.' Apparently some mediums discover this ability without difficulty, while others must train their minds with the aid of spiritual helpers. Some mediums see a spirit as though it has a physical body. Other mediums see a spirit in their 'mind's eye' as if it was a movie or photograph." Bobby turned the pages to another bookmarked section.

"Clairaudience is another psychic sense. It's usually defined as the ability to hear voices or thoughts of spirits. The book says that some mediums hear as though there are listening to someone talking next to them, whereas other mediums hear the voices in their minds as verbal thought. The book later talks about claircognizance, the ability some mediums have that allows them to tell whether a message or situation is "right" or "wrong" and clairsentience, the ability to have an impression of what a spirit wants to communicate," Bobby summarized. He looked at Sam.

"You may want to take a good look at this book, Sam, and this one here," Bobby suggested as he took a smaller green hardbound book off of a nearby pile.

Dean glanced at his little brother. Sam seemed to be breathing a bit heavier. He didn't blame him.

"Wow. I seem to be a textbook case, huh?" Sam said, as he scanned more of the pages.

"Well, not exactly. From what you've told me about your experiences and what I've read," Bobby said, "your abilities appear to be potentially very powerful. I found few accounts of mediums who have more than one developed psychic sense."

"Anything about involuntary mediumship?" Sam asked after scanning some of the pages.

Bobby looked at Sam and then to Dean.

"Not yet. Sorry. The smaller book does go into great detail about the very specific conditions most mediums need to initiate communication, such as being in total darkness, sitting in a contained space, and being fully rested. You don't seem to need _any_ of them," Bobby answered.

Everyone was quiet for a moment, as if each placing the events of the past few weeks into the framework of this new information. Finally, Sam looked up from the book, and saw that everyone was looking at him. He saw pity in Bobby's eyes, fear in Dean's, and desperation in Ellen's. All because of him. He looked back down at the book. He felt like throwing it, punching something, or worse. He didn't want any of this. He wanted to be normal. He wanted to be left alone. He stood up quickly. Dean stood as well.

"Sam, it's okay. Don't worry. We'll figure it all out. You know I won't let anything happen to you," Dean said as he put his arm around Sam.

Sam shoved him, ignoring the shocked look in Dean's eyes.

"Don't patronize me Dean! You don't see me with a sign in the window charging desperate people ten bucks to read their palms! This is END of the world big, remember?" Sam yelled.

"Maybe we should take a break," Ellen suggested, standing now as well.

Sam shot a look that could easily be interpreted as hated toward her.

"Why? Do they want me to stay in the dark about my abilities?" Sam yelled at her.

Although no one else knew exactly what Sam meant, she did. Tears sprung to her eyes. He had hurt her, and he wasn't sorry.

"Excuse me," she said as she rushed out.

"What the Hell is going on here? Who flipped the lightswitch from sane to crazy?" Bobby yelled as he pushed out his chair.

"I'm SICK of everyone looking at me like I'm some kind of FREAK! I NEVER ASKED FOR ANY OF THIS!" Sam yelled, not bothering to hide his anger now.

Suddenly the two kitchen windows blew out. Bobby and Dean hit the floor. Dean pulled Sam down with him, shielding his brother from the raining glass with his body. When all was quiet again, Bobby and Dean jumped up and scrambled for their guns. They didn't know what had happened, but they would be ready. Sam got up and slowly walked over to the opening over the sink where the small window used to be.

"Do you hear it, Dean?" Sam asked, eyes hastily scanning the area outside. Dean sighed. Not again with the voices. Dean cautiously looked out of the opening, not expecting to see or hear anything but not wishing to upset Sam again.

"I don't hear anything, Sam," Dean said gently, looking at his brother. He had promised Sam that he would listen to him, but he wouldn't encourage this. Dean stood back, watching Sam as he clenched and unclenched his fists. Dean felt the gripping fear return to his gut. He had almost convinced himself that he had gotten Sam back completely from the demons and who knows what else. He realized now that he was wrong.

Sam began to hum something too softly for Dean to hear. Then Sam began to sing in a low voice, his eyes still staring ahead, at what Dean did not know.

"Swing low, sweet chariot  
Coming for to carry me home  
Swing low, sweet chariot  
Coming for to carry me home

I looked over Jordan and what did I see,  
Coming for to carry me home  
A band of angels coming after me  
Coming for to carry me home...,"

Dean didn't need a mirror to know that all the color must have drained from his face.

"Dean?" Bobby asked, looking back and forth between the brothers.

"That song. Our mother used to sing that to us when she put us to bed. I never told him that." Could it be true that his mother was communicating to Sam or was it just another demon trick? He was still betting on demon trick.

"Help me get him away from the window Bobby," Dean said. Bobby and Dean each grabbed one of Sam's arms when Sam suddenly went limp…

_"__Swing low, sweet chariot… Coming for to carry me home..Swing low, sweet chariot…Coming for to carry me home…" _Mary finished the song and continued to rock little Sam in her arms. It was late, and she wished her five month old baby boy would finally fall asleep. She was exhausted, but he didn't look the least bit tired.

"My little Samuel. Do you know that your name means 'his name is God'? Hmm? God listened to me when I prayed for you, my little angel." She kissed his forehead and Sam cooed. She began to hum the song again.

"Your brother has been in bed for hours now. I wish you would just close your little eyes-,"

"Mary?" John called quietly from the doorway. She jumped and then laughed. She really needed to stop watching "The Twilight Zone" with John at night.

"He's just not tired, huh?" John said after he entered the room. He kissed his wife and then his youngest son.

"I guess not, but I sure am," she said with a yawn. John pulled his wife and baby into his arms and gently hugged them.

"Why don't you just put him down in the crib for awhile? I'm sure he'll fall asleep," John suggested. "I miss my nice warm wife next to me," he said smiling and kissing her again.

"I'm sure that's not all you miss," she said, laughing.

Sam walked around the other side of the crib and looked at his parents. They were a family then. Until the Yellow Eyed Demon took it all away. It made his heart ache and he could feel himself starting to get upset. He took a deep breath and tried to focus on the wonderful moment he was witnessing. He didn't know why he was there seeing what he was seeing, but he didn't care. He would remember it always.

Sam heard a dog bark outside and he looked out the partially open drapes of the nursery window behind him. He saw a figure, facial features obscured in shadow, standing under the streetlight looking up at him. Was it the Yellow Eyed demon? Had he visited him before his sixth month birthday? If so, how many times and for what reason? Without warning one of the glass window panes of the nursery window shattered, and an unseen force threw Sam to the floor. Looking back up to his parents, he saw that Mary and John had rushed over to the window to look out. All of a sudden Mary turned back to him, white as death and blood beginning to radiate out from her middle.

"They're coming Sam!" Mary cried, looking directly at him. "You must get out of the house now!" She began to scream, a wailing sound that filled his ears so he could focus on nothing else...

Sam woke with a start to the sound of the phone ringing. He became aware that he was lying on the living room couch. His vision cleared to see Dean and Ellen standing over him.

"Sam? When are you going to stop scaring the crap out of me? I'm getting too old for this!" Dean exclaimed as he slowly helped Sam to a sitting position.

The dizziness subsided and Sam struggled to put meaning to what had just happened. It was all so confusing…the line between what was reality and what was not. He feared that he would not know the difference before long.

"Do you remember anything about what happened?" Dean asked, pulling Sam's face closer to his to look into his eyes. The pupils look good, Dean thought. He was also relieved to see no blood this time.

"Ow, Dean. Careful. My head is killing me," Sam groaned, although he was secretly comforted to have his brother within arm's reach. Bobby rushed into the room as Dean finished running his hands over Sam, finding no other injuries.

"Glad you're okay Sam. Dean, help me clean up the glass in the kitchen, will ya? Roger just called. He and some of the other hunters are coming over. They have a lead!"

**Please take a moment to review. They feed my writing! Thanks for reading and please stay tuned for my next chapter! (Some info. courtesy of Wikipedia on-line)**


	11. Crush

**Chapter 11: Crush**

"I'll help you with the glass, Bobby," Ellen offered.

"Ellen," Sam said, catching her arm as she walked by the couch. "I don't know what just happened. I'm sorry."

"That's okay," she said with a quick smile. Sam noticed that she didn't look directly at him. Was she afraid of him now? Dean sat down next to Sam after she left, the brothers now alone.

"Dean, what are you doing? We have go!" Sam said as he began to stand. Dean held Sam's arm down tightly, preventing his brother from rising.

"What are you talking about? We are _not_ going anywhere. Tell me what happened to you, Sam. We've got to start getting a handle on this before-," Dean said before Sam cut him off.

"No! We have to get out NOW! Mom told me so!" Sam said. He began to stand again, this time pulling Dean up with him. Dean was surprised at his brother's sudden physical strength.

"You're listening to the voices in your head over me now? I'm REAL, Sam, they're not!" Dean said.

"No, not the voices, Dean. Mom! Mom IS real. She told me to get out and I'm getting out! You can come with me or you can stay!" Sam said, shaking his head in frustration. Why did Dean have to fight him on everything?

Dean opened his mouth to protest when the furniture in the room suddenly began to shake violently. Dean spun around, almost not believing what he was seeing.

"Are _you _doing that?" Dean asked. Another realization hit him. "Did _you_ blow out the kitchen windows too?"

Sam gasped and sat down quickly, as if his legs had instantly lost all ability to support him. The items were still again as quickly as they began shaking. Was Dean right? Had it been him? He did move the cabinet that time at Max's when Dean was in trouble, but never did anything like this. It was as if a stronger force was behind him now.

"Look. Please try to stay calm, okay? Just listen to me for a moment," Dean said, sitting back down as well. He put his hand on Sam's arm, hoping to reason with him." You and I both know it's not safe to leave. Where would we go anyway? Don't you give in to the demons, Sam. I'll chain you to the wall if I have too!" Dean exclaimed.

"I appreciate you wanting to protect me. You don't want anything to happen to me as much as I don't want anything to happen to you. But you can't stop what is happening, nor can I ignore what I feel. We have to leave NOW. And I know where to go. To see Missouri. Bobby said many mediums have spiritual helpers. Maybe she can help me," Sam said. Dean looked at his little brother and clenched and unclenched his jaw.

"Bobby!" Dean called to the older man.

"Yeah, Dean?" Bobby asked as he re-entered the room.

"Sam and I are leaving. What do you have to protect him?" Dean said.

Bobby looked back and forth from Dean and Sam.

"You're joking, right? I told you that Roger and the others are coming. They have something big that they couldn't talk about over the phone. I could really use your input," Bobby said.

"I'm sorry, Bobby, but we have to leave before the hunters come," Sam said, looking at Dean.

"Before? Why?" Bobby asked.

"I don't know. I just feel it. _Please,_" Sam insisted.

"All right. I guess I can't change your mind, even if I do think you're crazy to leave. But you Winchesters are nothing if not resourceful. Look, I'll call you to let you know what the hunters have. Now get your things together and I'll get you both some protection. You best hurry. They'll be here in twenty minutes," Bobby said as he rushed off.

"I'm going to meet Roger and the others at the bottom of the road," Ellen said. "Good luck, Sam. I mean that. For all of our sakes." She gave them both quick hugs before leaving through the front door.

"Sam, you stay here. I'll get our stuff. _Don't_ move and _don't_ start levitating furniture around, okay? I don't have any money left to pay Bobby after the windows," Dean joked. Sam smiled and Dean felt like he had just caused a small miracle himself.

Dean returned with his and Sam's duffle bags only moments before Bobby joined them.

"I'm going to give you each some charms," Bobby said as he placed three in Sam's palm and two in Dean's. "I also have some amulets. Hopefully they will all work together to keep you protected until you get to where you are going," Bobby paused for a moment. "Where _are_ you going?" he asked.

"We'll let you know, okay?" Dean replied.

Bobby nodded and took something out of his pocket.

"For you Dean, here is an amulet of a griffin," he said. On a long black cord hung a small silver metal animal with the body of a lion and the head of an eagle. "This mythical being, that is Grecian in origin, is said to protect the psyche from dark forces," Bobby explained.

"Give them all to Sam, I don't need anything else," Dean said.

"Take it Dean. The best way to Sam is through you," Bobby said as he held out the amulet. Dean sighed and then put it over his head.

"Sam, these are for you," Bobby explained as he pulled out three more amulets, each on black cords as well. "This is a turtle amulet. It helps one stay invisible to others on the astral plane. This amulet is of the sun, a universal symbol worn to oppose its shadow, dark energy of all kinds. This last one here is a Celtic Amulet of Suli, depicting the Sun Goddess in a halo of flames. She protects against spiritual weakness. Wear them in good health."

"Bobby," Sam said in awe. "We can't take all of these."

"Sam, if the demons get you and we fail, I likely won't be here much longer to need them anyway," Bobby said. _If we fail. _the words echoed in Sam's mind.

"Well, we won't fail, so we'll be giving these back to you real soon," Dean said quickly, as if sensing Sam's fear.

"Thanks Bobby," Sam said hugging him. "Sorry about everything."

"I'll always be here for you boys, you know that. Just do what you got to do. Dean, talk to you soon, right?" The older man held out his hand.

"You got it, Bobby," Dean said as he shook the older man's hand and then pulled him into a hug. Bobby had become like a surrogate father for them both. "You watch yourself," Dean warned.

"Been doing that since before you graced the Earth with your presence, son. Ain't gonna stop now, so don't worry about me. Now get the hell out of here," Bobby said with a smile.

Dean and Sam walked out the front door quickly. The cool morning had turned into a rainy late afternoon, and the sky was growing darker by the minute. Sam's pace slowed as he looked up to the sky.

"They know, Dean. They know we're on the move and they're waiting," Sam said. Dean pulled Sam along.

"It's okay Sam," he said, at loss for anything else to say. He wished he believed his words. They got into the Impala after putting their bags in the trunk. Dean turned the key and the black car roared to life.

"That's it, baby," Dean said, hitting the center of the steering wheel. "Feels good to be on the move again!" Dean said, smiling. He hoped his attempt at lightening the mood was working on Sam. It wasn't.

Sam sat rigid in the seat, quiet. He was grasping all three amulets in his hand.

"Ready, Sam?" Dean asked as he posed his foot over the gas pedal.

"Ready as I'll ever be. Go!" Sam answered.

Dean floored the gas pedal, knowing full well that a demon spirit could move faster than any car, but he wanted to show them that he could raise some Hell too.

As the Impala raced toward the road leading off of Bobby's property, Sam began to breath heavily.

"I'm scared, Dean," Sam said softly. Dean clenched his jaw again. He knew that if his brother was admitting that to him, Sam must be completely terrified.

"I'm scared too, but I won't let anything happen to you, remember? You made a promise to save me and you can't do that if you're dead." Dean slowed as he neared the property line.

"Here we go little brother," Dean said as he pushed the gas pedal to the floor once again and they raced onto the dirt road.

Sam gasped and Dean could see him struggling to catch his breath.

"Can't…breathe…crushing…me," Sam managed to blurt out.

"Sam? What should I do? Turn back around?" Dean said, panic in his voice. This was totally new territory here. He'd have to add some new chapters to his dad's journal after this.

"Sam!" Dean yelled. His brother appeared not to hear him or was ignoring him. .

"SHOULD I TURN AROUND?" Dean yelled again. Sam shook his head as if to clear it.

"They...loud...now.…Keep…going…Missouri…help. They….won't…kill…me…Need...me...," Sam wheezed between short, rasping breaths. "Feels...like…they…pounding…into...me…weight...them...crushing...but…they…can't," Sam tried to explain, continuing to rub his amulets with shaking hands. Thank you Bobby, Dean thought. Sam was still in control, for now.

"Well, they're going to find out that they're not going to be able to do anything that they want to do, not if I can help it," Dean vowed. No one messed with his little brother. He put his hand on Sam's arm and squeezed. Even if Sam had trouble hearing him, he could at least feel him.

Sam moaned loudly and continued to wheeze.

"Hurts..." He said as he curled into a ball, his eyes squeezed shut.

"I'm going as fast as I can, Sam, but it's a nine hour drive. Just hold on, okay? I'm going to call Missouri now so she'll be ready for us," Dean said as he flipped open his cell. He was glad he saved her number in his phone. He was relieved when he heard a woman's voice answer after the second ring.

"Hello?" A woman asked.

"Missouri?" Dean asked.

"No. This is her sister. Can I help you?" She asked nicely.

"I have to talk to her immediately. Is she there?" Dean responded, losing his patience for the polite banter.

"She's resting. She's recovering from a nasty fall down the steps. The doctor's say it's a miracle that she's all right. Would you like to leave her a message?"

Dean's mouth dropped open. Son of a bitch. The demons?

"Yes, please. Tell her the Winchester boys say hello," Dean said.

"Sam and Dean Winchester? Isn't that funny! She was just saying this morning that you two were due for a visit."

Dean's mouth dropped open again...

* * *

The hunters stormed into Bobby's living room without warning. Ellen rushed in behind them."Bobby-," Ellen began to speak. 

"What's going on, Bobby?" Roger asked, interrupting her, his voice full of tension.

"You tell me. I thought you had big news, " Bobby asked.

"Yeah. Don't mind if we search the place do you?" Roger asked as the six other hunters split apart to search the other rooms.

"For what? What's this about, Roger? We've all been friends for years-," Ellen said.

"Friends don't mean nothin' when it comes to demons. We have a lead all right. We want the Winchester boy NOW!"

**Please review because I love to hear from you wonderful readers! Please come back soon to check out my next chapter!**


	12. Hour One

**Chapter 12: Hour One**

Hour one, Dean thought as he raced the Impala onto the highway. Only eight more hours to go after this one. We _ca_n do this. We _just_ have to make it to Missouri's and everything will be okay.

"Dean..." Sam panted as he turned his head to look at his older brother, interrupting Dean's poor attempt at positive thinking.

"Yeah, Sam?" Dean asked. He was relieved to hear Sam talking, but it killed Dean to see how much effort it took him.

"Thanks...for...coming...with...me," he gasped. He moaned again and shifted in his seat.

"Come on, Sam, you know that your knucklehead brother always comes through in the end, right?" Dean said with a smile. "How do you feel, Sam? Is it getting any better?" Dean asked, serious now. Please let it be better.

"Yes," Sam rasped, immediately followed by another moan. Liar, Dean thought sadly.

* * *

Sam wished that he could just catch his breath for a minute. The crushing sensation was unbearable, and nothing he did seemed to offer the least bit of relief. He could make out some of what the demons were saying now, their words painfully piercing into his mind at a deafening level and then tapering to whispers and finally to echoes. He did not try to open his eyes anymore; the headlights of the oncoming cars hurt his eyes. 

"_Sam… now… let… here... out…many…Hell..."_

Oh, God. Please make it stop. Sam didn't care anymore what the demons wanted or even about the war. He prayed that he could fall asleep or lose consciousness. Just make it stop.

"Only seven more hours to go, Sammy, Great job," Dean said a little while later.

* * *

"Hour three!" Dean thought triumphantly. Sam hadn't said anything for the past forty-five minutes. He watched his brother shudder and jerk away from some force felt or seen only by him. What was going on inside of Sam? He'd wait for his answer because he didn't want Sam to have to struggle to answer. Dean reached over and rubbed Sam's arm instead. 

"Only six more hours to go, Sam. Great job," Dean said with encouragement.

* * *

Sam tried to focus on Dean's voice, but it seemed to be getting softer while the demons' seemed to be getting louder. He could still feel Dean though, his touch like his anchor to reality. 

"Only five more hours to go, little brother. Great job," Dean said with enthusiasm at the end of the hour.

* * *

Dean clenched and unclenched his jaw again. More than anything, all Dean wanted at that moment was to switch places. For as long as he could remember, he never could stand to see Sam in pain, even when he still considered Sam a pain in the ass. He smiled as a memory came to mind. 

"Sam, do you remember Florence Marina State Park in Omaha, Georgia?" Dean asked. It was one of the few times that their father had allowed them to camp out instead of being stuck in a cramped motel room. The freedom had meant everything to Dean.

"You were seven, I think, and I a very mature eleven. You had been constantly bugging me to teach you how to ride a bike and I finally let you borrow mine," Dean laughed.

"It took you at least three days to get up the nerve to pedal the bike without me holding on to the back. If Dad hadn't been off hunting, he would have told you to stop being a sissy. I know I called you a sissy more than once that week. Anyway, the first time I let go of the bike you took off. You panicked and forgot how to brake. You hit a tree and fell off. I laughed at first until I saw that you were crying. You weren't hurt, just scared. I remember looking around to make sure that no one could see us before giving you a hug. I even spent my comic book money on an ice cream for you. I remember that you made me swear not to tell Dad. That was fine by me."

Dean was snapped out of the happy memory by a soft whimpering from Sam. The smile vanished from Dean's face.

"Only four more hours to go, Sammy. Great job," Dean said after looking at his watch.

* * *

Sam called out to his older brother, but heard no answer. His eyes saw nothing but blackness. He ran, not sure where he was going but hoping it was toward Dean. Suddenly he fell into deep water, choking on the frigid liquid filling his mouth and throat. He couldn't breathe. He flailed to get to the surface, but felt a hand push his head down underwater again. He struggled to move through the choppy water and looked up to the turbulent surface. All he could see was a pair of glowing yellow eyes. 

"_Give…in…"_

"Only three more hours to go, Sam. Great job," Dean said as he patted Sam's leg.

* * *

Dean's head jerked toward Sam when he heard his brother mumble something. He had gotten lost for a moment in the hypnotic repetitive movement of the Impala's wiper blades. The rain was coming down in sheets now, almost as if something didn't want them to reach Missouri's. 

"What Sam?" Dean asked.

Sam didn't answer.

"Only two more hours to go Sam. Great job," Dean said as he squeezed Sam's hand.

* * *

The pair of glowing eyes grew to envelope Sam in a blinding white light. He could feel that he was no longer under water, but where he was now he did not know. He squinted against the brightness. 

"_Hold on, Sam. You're almost there. Relax now." _The voice comforted him when he recognized it. It was his mother.

"Only one more hour to go, Sammy. Great job," Dean said, making the car go a little bit faster, despite the less than ideal driving conditions.

* * *

Dean almost felt like crying with relief when he turned the Impala onto Missouri's street. The nagging anxiety he initially felt about returning to Lawrence, Kansas was replaced miles ago by an intense focus on reaching their destination as quickly as possible. Sam no longer moved, moaned, or even cried out. It seemed crazy to Dean how much he missed those sounds now. He pulled into Missouri's driveway and turned off the car. He hurried over to Sam's side and opened the car door slowly. He could feel Sam's weight pressing against it. Sam was limp and felt cold to the touch. Carefully Dean hoisted Sam over his right shoulder into a fireman's carry, grunting with the effort. He was so tired, physically and emotionally. 

"We're here, Sammy. Great job," Dean said quietly, more to himself than Sam now. He didn't think Sam could hear him anymore.

**Thanks for reading and please keep the reviews coming. I love to hear from you all and hope you continue to love the story! Check back soon! **


	13. Path

**Chapter 13: Path**

With Sam's dead weight on his shoulder, Dean struggled to make it up the long stone path to Missouri's front door. Dean slipped and fell and his knees painfully struck the hard, slick surface. With a grunt and shaking legs, he stood again. When he raised his head, he saw them. Figures, not there a moment ago, stood circled around him now, blocking their way to the house and to the Impala. Their faces were partially lost in shadow, but Dean had no confusion about who they were or what they wanted. They were men possessed by demons. Poor bastards, he thought. He pulled his gun out of his pocket and waved it back and forth. Too many targets. He knew it and they knew it too.

"Well, it's about time you showed your cowardly faces. My, my. We're dramatic, aren't we? Letting us _almost_ make it inside. But you're wasting your time. You _can't_ have him," Dean said, his mind racing to formulate an action plan.

"He's ours," a male voice whispered from somewhere behind him. Dean did not turn. The front door was in his sights and he was _going_ to get there.

"Go to Hell," Dean said, his mouth quivering in anger.

The figure directly in front of him stepped forward and smiled, revealing white teeth that were in stark contrast to his shadowed face.

"Oh no," the male voice hissed. "That next spot is reserved for _you_." The figure laughed, a low rumble that seemed to somehow make the ground shake beneath Dean's feet. Dean lost his balance again and Sam spilled onto the wet grass to the left of the path.

"Sammy!" Dean called to his brother. He could still see his brother though the legs of the men. Sam was not moving. He looked…lifeless.

Dean scrambled to get up, but arms pushed him back down. Dean grunted in pain when he felt a foot connect with his stomach. He curled into a ball as he absorbed five more kicks.

"This is much bigger than you know, _boy_," one man said, his voice full of hostility, as the others reformed their circle around Sam.

"Dean!" Dean's eyes darted to the house when he heard Missouri's unmistakable voice yell his name. She was sitting in a wheelchair in the doorway, bright light from the foyer spilling out around her onto the front step.

He looked back to Sam. The men were gone now, and Dean crawled over to his brother. He pulled Sam into his arms for a moment as he scanned the front yard. There was no indication that the men had ever even been there. He turned his focus back to Sam again. He could feel Sam's heartbeat! He could feel Sam breathing! Dean allowed himself the luxury of _one_ sigh of relief.

"Get him inside!" Missouri instructed. Dean didn't have to be told twice. With an almost primal yell, he hoisted Sam onto his shoulder once more and he raced for the door. Missouri wheeled herself back allowing Dean ample space to maneuver inside. He carefully laid Sam down on the couch as Missouri shut and locked the door.

"Missouri! Thank you!" Dean said as he pushed Sam's damp hair out of his eyes.

"Oh you poor, poor babies," She said as she wheeled over to them. "I'm so sorry."

"What…." Dean took a deep breath to calm himself. "What did you do to get rid of them?"

"I felt an overwhelming evil outside, yes. But all I did was open the door," she explained.

Dean turned to look at her. If she didn't do anything, then why did the demons leave?

"He's much stronger than you know, Dean," Missouri said, as if answering the question that he hadn't even voiced out loud. "Much stronger than he even knows. They don't have him yet."

Dean slowly kneeled down next to the couch and watched the steady rise and fall of Sam's chest, ignoring his throbbing knees, aching stomach, and tired muscles. He could see that Sam's color was even returning. Dean sat down on the floor, and leaned against the couch. He did, however, keep his hand on Sam's leg as if afraid his little brother could disappear at any moment if he didn't.

"Please, tell me everything," Missouri asked. Dean nodded and began to relay the events of the past few weeks. He even left in the parts about their mother, just in case Sam was listening. Sam would be mad at him if he didn't.

**I know this chapter's short, but I was short on time tonight. I'll keep trying to update often, so please keep coming back to read and review this story!**


	14. Missouri's Promise

**Chapter 14: Missouri's Promise**

Although he still could not move or even open his eyes, Sam was vaguely aware that he was somewhere safe. As the minutes passed, his senses began to return to him. The pressure of a hand on his leg and the feel of the soft cushions against his body. The smell of Missouri's perfume. The sound of voices next to him. But not the demons this time, no. Those voices were soft again for now. He had been aware of the demons before, well _heard _them really, and remembered simply demanding that they be gone before everything went blank again. What had happened? He had so many questions.

They had made it to Missouri's, Sam recognized that much. The long, tortuous car ride was finally over. He felt like he could breathe again and the warmth had been returned to the air around him. Even the pain was bearable again. There was so much to tell Dean and Missouri, and he hoped that they could help him sort it out. He was _so_ proud of Dean, his larger than life brother who has _never_ let him down. He had to wake up now. He had to do his part to save Dean first from the demons, and then from the deal for his soul. Sam had not forgotten his promise. Dean's and Missouri's words suddenly met his ears with perfect clarity.

"…Sam wanted to come here for your help. Bobby said that many mediums used 'spiritual helpers.' Speaking of Bobby," Dean said as he pulled out his cell phone from his jeans front pocket. "I need to call him and tell him that we're okay. He's also going to want to know that the demons came after you," Dean said. He opened his flip phone.

"Don't," Sam croaked, as he partially opened his eyes. His voice didn't quite seem ready to cooperate.

"Sammy! Thank God you're awake. I think I aged twenty years over these past ten hours!" Dean said after turning around to face his brother. He pulled Sam up to a sitting position. Sam could see the exhaustion and pain in his older brother's eyes.

"Don't," Sam repeated again, his voice stronger now.

"Don't what?" Dean asked.

Missouri looked intently at Sam.

"Don't call Bobby," She said, sensing Sam's thoughts. "They're in trouble."

Sam looked straight ahead and his breathing increased. He grabbed Dean's arm for support as the now familiar sensations began to overwhelm him. He could see and hear it all now, as if he too had been there…

"What the Hell's the matter with all of you? This is _my_ house and you will show me RESPECT when you're standin' in it!" Bobby yelled. He nodded at Ellen and in one swift motion, he threw a small handgun at her from his coat pocket and grabbed a shotgun off of the shelf to his right. He pointed the shotgun at Rodger's chest and Ellen pointed her gun at the other hunters, even though everyone in the room knew he and Ellen were outnumbered. The other five hunters pulled their guns out too and pointed them at the pair, but Bobby's and Ellen's guns did not lower.

"We know about Sam. We know that he has everything to do with this demon war," Roger said, his arms raised.

"_What_ do you know," Bobby said, his voice full of anger now.

"Just give him to us and we'll go," Roger said.

"You'll go all right," Bobby said motioning his gun and Roger toward the front door. "and don't any of you EVER step foot on my property again, unless you want to see how long it takes to bleed out when half your chest is missing." Bobby threatened.

"Oh come on Bobby, don't be like that," Another hunter standing near the door said. "We're all on the same side here!"

"Clearly, no. We're over here and you're over there. NOW GET OUT!" Bobby yelled.

"Sorry. No can do," Roger said as he lunged at Bobby. Bobby was ready though, and preferred fist-to-fist fighting to guns. Bobby was proud to have Ellen fight next to him any day, but she was no match for five men.

"Bobby!" Ellen gasped. One of the men had her in a headlock.

"What, now you beat up women too?" Bobby said angrily, but stepped away from Roger. Roger rubbed his aching face. The old man could punch, he'd give him that much. He grabbed Bobby's and Ellen's guns off of the floor. Within minutes the pair was shoved to the ground and tied up.

"This can go _real_ easy. Or this can go _real_ hard. I'll give you two a minute to talk it over," Roger said, leaning down so his face was level with their faces. "I do have one suggestion. I'd pick easy." Roger stood back up, walked over to the couch, and sat down. He watched the pair, as he scratched his temple with the gun. The rest of the hunters left to search the remainder of the house and property.

"Jackpot! Roger, come 'ere and look at this!" One hunter yelled to the leader from the kitchen moments later. Ellen and Bobby looked at each other, knowing that the hunters saw the broken windows and found the books spread across the table.

"Nobody else's here!" one hunter reported to Roger, as the others filed into the kitchen behind him. "Their car's gone too."

"Don't matter. We got all the proof we need now," Roger said loudly, as if to make sure Bobby and Ellen could hear him. "We'll take all this with us," Roger said. The others gathered up the books and papers and left the house. Roger stayed behind, and walked over again to Bobby and Ellen. He again raised his gun at the pair.

"You ready to talk?" Roger asked.

"Go to Hell!" Ellen yelled.

"Hmm," Roger said. "It's a shame really, that you chose to help him. You may have killed us all."

Ellen swallowed. She thought of Jo, and hoped that she wasn't making a big mistake.

_"You may have killed us all...,"_

Sam blinked his eyes and was snapped back to reality with Dean and Missouri. After a moment to catch his breath, he told Dean and Missouri what he saw.

"We got to help them Dean!" Sam exclaimed.

"Why does that happen?" Dean asked, ignoring Sam's words for a moment, hoping to finally start getting some answers about Sam's abilities.When it came to his little brother, he didn't like to be out of control about anything.

"Because he wanted it to," Missouri said simply and calmly.

"What?" Sam asked, the confused one now. "Because I wanted it? Are you saying that I can control my abilities now?"

"In a way you could always summon your abilities, but fear, anger, pain are the devil's motivators. I will try to teach you to control your abilities using other emotions. But not until you get a full night's rest. Maybe two. _Both_ of you," Missouri stressed, making it a point to look at Sam and Dean.

"Missouri-," Sam protested, not wanting to waste any time.

"Uh, uh" she said shaking a finger at Sammy. "House rules. _I'm_ in charge, honey. Discussion closed. Dean, you can sleep on the couch. Sam, there's a guest room for you, first door on the right. I'll be in my bedroom, the last door on the left. Thank God I bought a rancher or you boys would be carrying me up the stairs right now. Good night," she said with a smile as she wheeled away.

About two hours later, Dean heard the soft sound of Missouri wheeling into the living room.

"Dean, honey?" Missouri asked quietly, more out of courtesy than anything. She knew he was still awake.

Although Dean was dead tired, he was far from being ready to fall asleep. The adrenaline would not let him rest yet.

"Yeah?" Dean asked as he swung his legs over the side of the couch to sit up. He turned on the light on the side table next to him.

"Yes, Ma'am," Missouri corrected with a smile as she wheeled next to him. Dean smiled too.

"I have something for you," Missouri began. Her smile was gone now. "I made a promise to give it to you, should I see you and Sam again under-," she paused as if trying to find the right words, "difficult circumstances." She reached into the front pocket of her red suit jacket and palmed something small into it.

"Made a promise to who?" Dean asked, very curious now. Missouri sighed.

"Your father, Dean. The last time you were in Lawrence, he was here too," Missouri began. Dean slammed his fist onto the table. He had called his father then, practically crying on the phone begging for help, and he _was_ here?

"Please don't be cross with him. That's all water under the bridge now. May he rest in peace," Missouri said. Dean clenched his jaw again, his anger for his father melting into sadness. He didn't know if his father was resting in peace, and that killed him inside. Dean waited for Missouri to continue, anxious nonw. He remembered the last promise that his dad had made him keep, that he'd have to kill Sammy if he couldn't save him.

Missouri slowly turned her fist over and opened her hand. Dean gasped, his eyes widening. Could that be what he thought it was? How was that possible?

It was a bullet. A bullet for the Colt.

Tears sprang to Dean's eyes as he shook his head. He knew why his father had saved that bullet.

In the other room, Sam stood in front of the bedroom door, a shaking hand poised over the doorknob. He had seen and heard everything. Voices in his head grew to a piercing level once again.

"_He wants to hurt you now. Hurt us. Leave now and we will protect you forever…"_

**Please, please continue to send me your reviews! Thanks for reading this chapter and come back again soon for more!**


	15. Crossroads

**Chapter 15: Crossroads**

"Do... you... know... what... this... is?" Dean asked, anger threatening to overwhelm him. He sat down on the couch, clenching and unclenching his jaw.

"I do," Missouri said, her voice ever calm, as she wheeled over to him.

"Then _why_ would you give it to me?" Dean asked. A tear slid down his right cheek.

Missouri sighed and wiped away his tear.

"Sugar, this isn't about me. It's not my decision to make. I'm sorry that with your daddy gone, it has to be your's," Missouri explained. "Remember though, you are _not_ alone. Your mother and father, God bless their souls, are watching over you and Sam. He can be saved. I'll do everything that I can."

Dean jumped up from the couch.

"Then I can get rid of this right now," Dean said as he rolled the small piece of metal between his fingers.

"You can," Missouri agreed.

"But…" Dean said, looking at her and waiting for the other side of the argument.

"But nothing. Like I said, it's your decision to make. Oh and Dean? Sam knows," Missouri said.

"He knows? You told him _before_ me?" Dean said, angry again.

"No. But he _knows_," Missouri said, waiting for it to click in Dean's mind what she meant.

"Oh," Dean said and sat down again, understanding now. "I'm sorry, Missouri. I really do appreciate everything that you are doing to help us. It's just,…"

"A lot to take in, I understand. Much as I would like you boys to catch up on your rest, we _must _start the lessons in the morning," Missouri said.

"Why?" Dean asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"Good night Dean," Missouri said with another one of her smiles."Check in on Sam before you go to bed, okay?"

"Yeah, I was planning on it. I mean yes, Ma'am," Dean answered.

Missouri smiled again and put her hand on Dean's. Without another word she wheeled away, leaving Dean alone with his thoughts.

* * *

Sam pulled his hand away from the doorknob and stumbled back onto the bed. He could not help the tears that started to fall. Were the demons right? No. Dean would come in a minute. Tell him that it was all okay. Tell him that he wouldn't use the bullet. Sam had made Dean promise before to kill him if he became someone that he was not, he knew that. But there was so much at stake now, including Dean's life, not to mention Bobby and Ellen's. The war was here and he knew that he was the key. He hadn't even had any lessons from Missouri yet. Why would she give Dean the bullet? Was it a mistake to come here? No, he assured himself as he remembered Missouri's words. 

_"In a way you could always summon your abilities, but fear, anger, pain are the devil's motivators. I will try to teach you to control your abilities using other emotions…"_

Dean would come in a minute to tell him that it was all okay. They would start the lessons tomorrow and everything would be okay...

* * *

Bobby was breathing hard now, after absorbing his sixth punch to the face. He was glad that Roger had moved on from punching him in the stomach. He could feel blood leaking from the corner of his mouth, but was unable to wipe it away. He strained against the ropes tying him to the kitchen chair, but they would not budge. They had taken Ellen to another room, and he was afraid what they might be doing to her. It had been hours now, and Roger and the other hunters refused to believe that he and Ellen did not know where Dean and Sam were. He was glad that the boys had not told them, and he prayed that they did not call. Another punch to his face shocked him out of his thoughts. 

"I don't know how much more of this you can take. And poor Ellen. She's a tough broad, but…" Roger said. He smiled as he stepped away from Bobby.

"So help me God, when I get free I'm gonna make you wish that you were never born…" Bobby threatened.

"If you don't help us, we're all gonna wish that we were never born. It's us against the demons, Bobby! GIVE….WINCHESTER…UP!" Roger yelled.

Bobby spat at him. Roger raised his fist to punch Bobby again, when a loud crash from the other room stalled his arm. The lights flickered and then went out. Men screaming suddenly filled their ears. Roger pulled out his gun and ran off, leaving Bobby alone to wonder about the commotion. Bobby heard another man scream and then all was silent, the only sound that of his own breathing. Bobby was confused when the rope on his wrists suddenly loosened and he could pull his hands apart. After rubbing feeling back into his hands and arms, he untied his feet. He grabbed his gun and flattened himself against the kitchen wall. After a moment, he ventured out into the living room. He stayed low, flattening himself to the wall again to the left of the archway leading to the hallway. He raised his gun and slowly inched his way down the hallway. He heard nothing and could see little. He could hear pounding coming from the closet. He threw open the door and Ellen's eyes met his. She looked unhurt, as far as Bobby could tell. He motioned for her to be quiet and he untied her hands and feet. She followed behind him as they continued to move cautiously down the hallway. The rooms that they passed were dark an appeared empty. They stopped quickly when they saw an arm sticking out from behind a partially closed door. Bobby looked at Ellen. She saw it too. Bobby slowly pushed open the door to the guestroom.

"Oh my God," Ellen said before turning away. Bobby shook his head as he walked further in the room. The hunters, all six of them laid side by side on the floor in a neat row, looked up at them with wide, unseeing eyes. Their throats had been cut.

* * *

Sam was drowning again in the dark, deep water, choking on the icy liquid that invaded his mouth and throat. He struggled to move through the choppy water and looked up to the turbulent surface. All he could see was two points of yellow light. Suddenly, an arm shot through the water and grabbed his shirt. Dean! Sam knew his brother would come for him. He broke through the surface, gasping for air. It was so dark, and he was momentarily disoriented. The arm pulled at him and he was suddenly inches from a pair of yellow eyes. They glowed brighter, and the area around them was suddenly illuminated. The eyes, and the face, were his! He struggled to understand how he could be looking at himself and what was happening, when he heard his own voice talk in head. 

_"We did it for you, because you wanted it. We can do whatever you want. Just join us and we will protect you forever…"_

* * *

"Sam?" Dean called through the door after knocking and getting no response. Sam was probably asleep by now. He hoped he was. He would still check on him though, and it reminded him of a promise he had made Sam when he was five or so, around the time when Sam understood that monsters under the bed and everywhere else were a very real possibility. 

_"Dean!" Dean rushed into the small separate bedroom of their motel room when he heard his little brother yell his name. Dean was watching television in the other room, something he loved to do when his dad wasn't home. It made him feel powerful to be awake when the rest of the world was asleep. _

_"Sammy! I'm right here!" Dean assured him as he jumped into the bed next to him. _

_"Ihadabaddreamandthenyouweren'tthereandIthoughtthewerewolfgotyou!" Sam words tumbled out quickly. He turned away from his older brother in a poor attempt to hide that he was crying. _

_"Don't worry Sam," Dean said, putting his arm around him. "Dad told me how to kill them. It won't get me and I won't let it get you," Dean explained, purposely not drawing attention to Sam's tears. _

_"How would you know if it got in? You weren't here!" Sam cried._

_"Because I always check on you, even if you're sleeping and you don't even know it," Dean said._

_Sam smiled. _

_"Now go back to sleep. I'm watching you and werewolves are afraid of me," Dean assured him._

_Sam nodded his head in agreement. To him, Dean was pretty intimidating, even if he was only nine years old. _

Dean tried the doorknob when Sam didn't answer. He slowly turned it, hoping to find his brother asleep. Dean jumped when he saw Sammy sitting up on the bed, as if frozen, staring straight ahead at him. Somehow though, Sam didn't seem to be looking at him, but rather through him at something only his eyes could see. It was one of the creepiest things Dean had ever seen. He looked around the room, but it was difficult to see. The only light in the room was the moonlight spilling in from the blinds of the two windows. He stepped forward, but stopped when he felt something under his feet. He crouched down to see three black cords with unrecognizable metal lumps melted together. Bobby's amulets. Dean stood again slowly and took out his gun.

Dean jumped again when the song ring of his cell phone blasted through his jeans pocket. Sam collapsed against the bed.

"Sammy?" Dean said as rushed over to his brother. He took his phone out to silence the sound and saw Bobby's name appear on the screen. Remembering Sam's earlier warning, he turned off the volume and put it back in his pocket.

"Missouri!" Dean yelled as he tried to wake his brother. _Please, please_...Dean begged. If there was a God, he hoped he was listening.

**Please continue to read and review! I look forward to them and they keep me writing. So if you like what you read, keep them coming! Next chapter will have much more Sam, I promise!**


	16. Mirror, Mirror

"_We did it for you, because you wanted it. We can do whatever you want. Just join us and we will protect you forever…"_

**Chapter 16: Mirror, Mirror**

A moment later, Sam woke with a gasp to see his brother leaning over him. He grabbed Dean's shirt collar. "I don't know what they're talking about! What did they do? WHAT ARE THEY TALKING ABOUT?" Sam yelled as he wrenched Dean closer, inches from his face now, and tightened his grip on the fabric. "My eyes, Dean! WHAT COLOR ARE MY EYES?" Sam shouted.

Dean tried to pull away, but Sam had his collar in a death grip so tight he could hardly breathe, let alone answer. Why wasn't Dean answering him? What did the demons do? Was any of this real or was it a dream? WHY WASN'T DEAN ANSWERING HIM?

"Forget it! I'll look myself!" Sam said, pushing Dean away when he did not respond quickly enough. Dean hit the wall and slid to the floor, but Sam didn't seem to notice his abnormal show of strength. Sam rushed over to look into a large mirror framed in small blue tiles that hung on the bedroom wall between the windows.

Dean got up slowly, the impact with the wall reminding him of how much his side still hurt, when Missouri wheeled into the room.

'He's out of control, Missouri!" Dean said as he stood up, still a bit shell shocked that Sam had thrown him against the wall with such ease and without an apparent second thought.

"Shhh. Wait," Missouri said. "Give him a minute."

Dean shook his head as he watched his little brother look into the mirror, and he felt completely incompetent once again. How could he save Sam from something that he couldn't even see?

Sam stared into the mirror and was relieved to see that his eyes were their usual blue/green color. As he continued to look into the round reflective surface, he saw two women in white dresses with long blonde hair enter the room and walk to the bed. Sam looked back at the bed in confusion. It was empty. Dean was standing ini the corner and Missouri was in her wheelchair and they were the only others in the room. Sam looked back into the mirror, and he now saw the women sitting on the bed with their heads down, as if waiting for him. Dean and Missouri were nowhere reflected in the mirror! This didn't make any sense at all. But nothing made much sense lately. The women raised their heads and turned to look at him. Sam's mouth dropped open, not sure if he could trust what he was seeing.

"Jessica? Mom?" Sam whispered. Seeing his mom and Jessica together both hurt terribly and comforted him immensely at the same time.

"Missouri!" Dean yelled. He couldn't just stand by while the demons ripped his little brother's heart out.

"Do nothing, Dean. Just wait." Missouri instructed firmly.

Sam continued to look into the mirror, unable to tear his eyes away now.

_"Sam? I brought Jessica with me because I know it's so unbearable for you now, honey. I'm sorry that I couldn't find John. We're here because we want to tell you to stay strong. We want to show you that we believe in you. You and Dean can both be saved,"_ Sam heard his mother say, although her lips did not move in the reflection. Jessica smiled at him but said nothing. Somehow Sam still knew that Jessica forgave him and he felt a relief that he could not put into words.

Tears started to slide down Sam's cheeks as he stared at the two most important women that had ever been in his life. In the reflection, the mirror on the wall suddenly began to crack. Blood began to shoot out of the cracks, like water from a collapsing dam, splashing onto their white dresses.

_"Promise us that you'll stay strong!"_ Mary pleaded, holding Jessica's hand now.

"I promise," Sam whispered. In the reflection, the glass of the mirror suddenly blew apart and blood poured into the room like a tidal wave. Sam stumbled back to the bed, his eyes still glued to Missouri's mirror. Dean moved to go to his brother, but Missouri held out her arm to stop him. Sam sat down on the bed, his head in his hands.

_"They left you, Sam. We are here now. We can do whatever you want. We can save Dean together. All you have to do is-,"_

"Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!" Sam yelled in an effort to silence the voices, as he started to rock back and forth. Why couldn't they just leave him alone? When would it stop?

"Missouri!" Dean exclaimed, anxious to act, to do _something_.

"Leave, Dean," Missouri instructed composedly, her eyes focused on Sam.

"What?" Dean said, thrown off guard by her command.

"Leave. The lessons begin NOW," she explained. "And answer your cell phone, will you?"

Dean jumped when his cell phone rang again. He looked at Missouri and she pointed to the door.

Dean walked out of the room. Although he was still unsure if leaving the room was the right thing to do, he decided to trust Missouri. That's why they were there and it was what Sam wanted. Dean hoped he wasn't making a huge mistake. He pulled out his cell phone and looked at the screen. Bobby was calling again. This time Dean answered the phone.

"Bobby? Are you and Ellen okay?" Dean asked.

"We are now. Are you two okay? Where are you?" Bobby asked. Dean paused a moment, unsure if he should give up their location just yet.

"Yeah, we're…somewhere safe. What happened? You said you're okay _now_?" Dean inquired.

"The hunters. They came for Sam. You were lucky to leave when you did. But they're dead now. We found them with their throats cut and their bodies all lined up nicely in a row. I'm not exactly sure what killed them, but I'd say it was the demons. Seems like their style. I'm not sure why they would kill them and spare us. It just doesn't make any sense. Maybe they didn't want them to get Sam. I don't know. I do feel sorry for them, it's a hell of a way to go," Bobby said.

Dean ran a hand through his hair. Holy crap, he thought remembering Sam's words.

"_I don't know what they're talking about! What did they do? WHAT ARE THEY TALKING ABOUT?"_ Did the demons do kill the hunters or did Sam?

"Nothing is making much sense right now, Bobby," Dean agreed.

"Look, Ellen and I are going underground for awhile and will be staying with some friends. We'll keep working at it. You call us if you have any news," Bobby said.

"Yeah, okay, Bobby. You call us if you come up with anything too," Dean said.

"Will do. And Dean," Bobby said after a pause. "you keep a close eye on Sam,"

"I will," Dean said before closing his cell phone.

He didn't miss the underlying meaning in Bobby's words. If Sam turned, Bobby would have no choice, just as he would have no choice…Dean didn't finish his thought, but couldn't resist the urge to pull out the bullet from his pocket again. He should get rid of it right now, but he put it back in his pocket instead. He knew he was too much John Winchester's son sometimes, but he couldn't help it. For the first time, maybe _ever_, he wasn't one hundred percent sure anymore that what he brought back was one hundred percent Sam.

Sam wiped the last of his tears away with the back of his hand. He and Missouri sat together alone in the bedroom. She hadn't said anything since Dean left, and he wondered if she was waiting for him to speak first. He hoped that she could read his mind; it would be easier than voicing all of the questions out loud, as if saying them would grant them some measure of validity.

"Sam? I want you to listen closely to me now," Missouri said gently. "I know that it seems like nothing makes sense, and you're not even sure what's real anymore. The demons want you disconnected from everyone and everything. I want you to listen to your heart and your Mom instead," she said.

"You heard her too?" Sam asked.

"No, but I felt her. Her and Jessica. And that's what I'd tell my boy if I was in her position," Missouri explained.

"Is it too late for me to be saved?" Sam asked.

"Only if you believe it is, honey. And I _know_ that you are _not_ at that point," she answered. Sam felt his breath escape him in a huge sigh of relief. It wasn't too late. Missouri would know if it was.

"Now, are you ready to begin?" she asked, patting his hand.

"Begin what?"

"Why your lessons of course, sweetie. That's why you're here, isn't it?" she smiled. "First, let's start with prayer, hmm? Clear the air of all that nasty demon vibe."

As Missouri began to pray, Sam let himself get lost in the words. He could do this. He could win. He had a lot of people on his side like Dean and Missouri and many people from somewhere beyond like his mom and Jessica. Maybe even God. He would _not_ be a victim anymore. If Missouri could teach him how to control his abilities, _he_ would be in charge. He could set the rules and the demons would have NO chance. He had looked into the mirror and saw blue/green eyes and that meant everything.

**Okay, so I ran out of time a bit with this chapter so stay tuned for more Sammy. I can't seem to keep Dean from sneaking into the story either! Thank you for continuing to read and review! It makes it worth it, since I am kind of putting my life on hold to update almost daily! ******** Next: the lessons. Should only be a few more chapters now! **


	17. Family

**Chapter 17: Family**

"Sam, I think we're ready to get started. This room feels…a little better," Missouri decided with a smile.

"What about Dean?" Sam asked, looking to the closed door.

"Dean's waiting in the hall. He can come in when we're done. I need your complete attention," Missouri explained.

Sam nodded, afraid to voice the real reason he asked. He didn't feel in total control of his body anymore, and he didn't want to hurt her.

"Don't you worry about me, okay? If the demons had any sense at all, they'd be afraid of me just like everyone else is," she laughed, an infectious sound that instantly put Sam at ease.

"Now, controlling your psychic abilities is basically all about focus. And to be focused, you must first be relaxed. When you feel relaxed, you will be less likely to turn on the anxiety, anger, or fear responses. You'll be more in control of your emotions, and therefore more in control of your thoughts and actions."

Sam nodded again. He winced and grunted when a sudden, intense pain spiked at the base of his skull. He knew it was the demons reminding him that they weren't going anywhere anytime soon. Missouri put her hand on Sam's shoulder.

"It's okay, honey. Let's start first with some deep breathing," Missouri said. "First, take off your socks and shoes."

She wheeled over and turned off the light switch as Sam removed his tan socks and brown leather Blundstone's.

"Now, lie down on the bed, get good and comfortable, and close your eyes."

Sam leaned back on the bed and laid his head on the pillow. He closed his eyes and was immediately assaulted by the horrific image of Jessica burning on the ceiling of their apartment.

"NO!" Sam said as he shot up in the bed, breathing heavily.

"Sam, you _can_ do this. You are stronger than they are. They know it and they're scared now. They don't want you to have the tools that you need. Let's try again, okay?"

"Okay," Sam agreed in a quiet voice. Sam laid back down, willing himself to continue despite the agonizing image. He closed his eyes and this time saw only blackness. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Good. Now, move your feet about a foot apart, with your toes turned a little outward. Yes, just like that," Missouri said as she watched Sam follow her directions.

"Relax all the muscles in your body, one by one, starting with your toes and moving all the way up to your neck and face," Missouri said. In his exhausted state, Sam found her voice so soothing that he had to fight the urge to drift to sleep.

"Pay attention, now. You can sleep when we're done." she reprimanded gently. She watched as he completed the task.

"Begin to breathe slowly, inhaling through your nose and exhaling out your mouth," she continued.

Sam inhaled the first big breath, but began to panic when he could not exhale it or intake any additional air. His throat was blocked! He looked to Missouri, his hands on his throat, and was confused to see that Missouri retained her calm composure.

"Sam, focus! Do NOT let them interrupt our lesson!" Missouri commanded. Sam stared at her and closed his eyes. As quickly as it began, his throat was released. He could breathe again. He took a big gulp of air and sat up.

"We're not done," Missouri informed him, not about to be sidetracked by demons' intimidation. She rubbed his arm, and Sam resumed his previous position.

"Now, as you exhale, think of a chosen word or phrase that means a lot to you and repeat it to yourself. If other thoughts or images keep intruding, don't dwell on them. Simply tuck them away and continue to repeat your chosen word."

Sam followed her instructions and thought of a word that meant the world to him and likely nothing to the demons. Family. He repeated the word over and over as he breathed in and out deeply, just as Missouri coached. They continued the exercise for another ten minutes without interruption before Missouri spoke again.

"Good! I'm very proud of you! We will repeat this exercise before every lesson, and I want you to repeat it at least twice a day, when you wake up and go to bed. Now that you are more relaxed, we will move on to the use of imagery, another important tool for achieving total relaxation. Tomorrow we will focus on meditation before moving on to more… difficult exercises," Missouri explained.

"Let's try it, okay?" Missouri asked.

"Okay," Sam agreed, although a bit hesitant of what the demons would do next. Nothing, he decided. He would allow them to do NOTHING to interrupt anymore tonight.

"VERY good, Sam," Missouri said as if sensing his new resolve. "Now, close your eyes again and focus for a minute on your breathing. Think of a place, a special place, where you felt relaxed, at peace, and safe. I'll give you a minute," Missouri said. Sam didn't need a minute. His mind quickly flashed onto the memory of a Florida beach vacation he, his father, and Dean took when he was ten. Well, a hunt wrapped in a vacation anyway.

"Now go to that special place. Think about it…see it…smell it…hear all the sounds, feel it all around you. Embrace the moment. Stay in your favorite place for a few minutes…Allow it to feed you with positive thoughts, more energy…" Missouri's voice began to get softer and her words seemed to float above him now.

_Sam opened his eyes to the sound of crashing waves and kids yelling in delight. He was on the beach, his dad and Dean laughing and throwing a football in the surf about twenty feet away. They always seemed able to easily switch between the roles of hunters and father and son. It was more difficult for him, and he always needed a few days to process the events of the hunt after it was over. He remembered this one, disappearing kids from a high school. They discovered that the spirit of the janitor had been killing the kids, after a student prank gone wrong had taken his life over forty years ago. After the salt and burn, his dad had told them that they could have a few days off before they'd be on the road again. Sam sifted warm sand through his fingers and the noon sun beat hot on his bare chest. The smell of the ocean air was strong. It felt real here, but different at the same time. Almost as if he could feel that outside the bubble of this memory, nothing else existed. Sam scanned up and down the beach, deciding to take a walk instead of joining his family. The waves licked at his toes before lapping up to erase his footprints as fast as he could made them. Seagulls cried overhead and in the distance he could here the dinging of an ice cream truck. Suddenly, he felt strong arms grip him from behind and lift him up a couple of feet._

_"Dean! Look who's too cool to toss a football with his old man!"_

_Sam squealed and only half-heartedly struggled to get out of his father's embrace. Hugs were often forgotten in a world where survival was paramount. _

Missouri's voice slowly returned to him like the turning of a volume knob on a radio.

"When you are ready, you may return slowly…Take a few minutes to open your eyes and readjust. You will feel reenergized and refreshed!" Missouri said.

Sam opened his eyes, a bit sad to return from the happy family moment to the dark bedroom in a far from happy reality. Sam sat up and wiped tears from his cheeks, but he knew this time, they were happy ones. He did it. The demons had not been able to touch that memory.

"How do you feel?" Missouri asked.

"Relaxed," Sam answered truthfully as he sat up. "I do feel more in control."

"Fantastic! You did very well. I'll see you tomorrow. We should be able to get in a few good hours of sleep," Missouri said before she turned to wheel away.

"Missouri? Thank you," Sam said.

"If what Dean says is true, I have you to thank. We all do. Without you trying to do this, there would be no hope for any of us. Good night." She smiled and wheeled out of the room.

Dean, who had been anxiously pacing the floor in the living room, looked up when he saw the door open. Missouri wheeled herself out, leaving the door open behind her. Her bedroom door shut with a soft click, leaving Dean alone. He walked down the hallway and peered into the bedroom, half afraid of what he would find. Sam was sitting on the side of the bed, his eyes closed.

"I know that you're there. I know everything, remember?" Sam said without opening his eyes.

"Oh, okay," Dean said, not sure of how to respond.

Sam opened his eyes and looked at Dean with a smile on his face.

"I'm kidding, man," Sam shook his head. "Lighten up."

Dean walked further into the room, but did not sit down next to his little brother.

"You want to talk about it now, or in the morning?" Sam asked, serious now.

"About the lesson?" Dean asked.

Sam stood up and walked over to Dean.

"No, Dean. About the bullet."

"Oh. The bullet." Dean unconsciously put his hand over his jeans pocket, feeling the impression of the small object through the denim. Funny how something so small could have the potential for such big ramifications.

"What, you forget about it already? The bullet Dad left you to _kill_ me? Does that help jog your memory?" Sam said. How could Dean act as if it meant nothing? Sam felt his body begin to tense up again, but this was one conversation that had to be made.

"He didn't leave it for me to kill you, Sam." Dean answered.

"Don't lie to me, Dean. I'm not some dumb kid!" Sam said.

"I'm not going to use it! I told you that already! I'd rather die!" Dean yelled.

"Then get rid of it," Sam said simply.

"I can't. It can kill anything," Dean replied.

"It can kill _me_!" Sam paused for a moment, looking Dean directly in the eyes."You're not sure if I can do it. You're…you're not sure anymore if I can beat the demons! You're not ever sure if I'm _me_ anymore!" Sam said, his eyes widening with his realization.

"No, that's _not_ it. I'm not going to use it on you, but I can't just throw it away!" Dean explained.

"Then let me hold it, and I'll give it back to you after I beat the demons," Sam held out his hand. He waited for what seemed like minutes for Dean to respond, although he knew it was likely only seconds.

"Sam," Dean said. His hand stayed over his pocket, but did not reach inside.

"BULL, Dean! Missouri believes in me! Mom and Jessica do too! And my own _brother_ doesn't believe in me?" Sam exclaimed. "I'll show you. I'll show you that I can win us this war _and_ save you from the deal. I'll show you because _you're_ my _brother_ and _I _love _you_."

"Sam, I never said…" Dean said before Sam cut him off.

"Just go Dean, before the demons and I do something that I'll regret." Dean did not move, but was unsure of what to say. He opened his mouth to speak again and Sam pointed to the door. Dean left without saying another word.

Sam punched the wall and looked at himself in the mirror. The mirror was just a mirror this time, and he missed the support of his mother and Jessica. He closed his eyes and thought about Missouri's lesson, willing himself to relax. If he couldn't stay relaxed during a conversation with Dean, how could he ever succeed against the demons? Maybe he just needed a new perspective, one that was less personal. Maybe ending the war was a job he was given and now saving Dean was just a job too.

**Thank you everybody! Please continue to review so I know that you continue to like my story. Come back real soon and check out the next chapter!**


	18. Without You

**Chapter 18: Without You**

Missouri looked back and forth between the boys in annoyance. Her hope for a nice, peaceful breakfast was dashed when she saw that neither Sam nor Dean seemed willing to even look at the other, as if nothing was more interesting than their plates, shirts, forks, etc. The tension in the air was thick, and she had finally had enough. Sam's and Dean's heads shot up when they heard Missouri's silverware clatter onto her plate.

"Look, you two boys deal with this NOW or get out. I can't live under these conditions!" she yelled throwing her hands up in the air.

"What are you-,?"

"You're thinking about talking back to me, and you BEST think again," she advised Dean as she pointed her finger at him, almost daring him to speak. Dean leaned back in his seat instead and waited for her to continue. Sam swallowed and slowly lowered his juice glass. She had their complete attention now.

"What's this ugly energy between you two all about?" Missouri asked.

Dean looked at Sam and then back to Missouri.

"We had an argument last night," Dean said with a sigh.

"And?" Missouri asked, looking to Sam.

"And there isn't anything left to say," Sam said to her, purposely avoiding looking at Dean.

"See? He won't even talk to me about it!" Dean said in frustration.

"Then talk to him," Missouri said.

"I tried this morning! He won't listen to me!"

"Then _show_ him. Now I'm leaving the table so you two can talk this out. You're brothers. None of this is easy for anyone, so GROW UP!" She wheeled away from the table, muttering some choice words to herself.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Dean decided to approach the conversation again.

"Look, Sammy. What I wanted to say this morning was that I thought about what you said last night and you're right. Guess it was bound to happen sometime," Dean said with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. Sam didn't smile back, but Dean was at least rewarded with eye contact. Dean sighed again and continued.

"It has been on my mind that the demons might have gotten to you. It has been on my mind that dad left me responsible to stop you if they did. But I _haven't_ forgotten that you're my brother. I rather die than kill you, just like I'd rather die in a year than not have you by my side fighting the demon bastards. It's just-"

"Dean, wait," Sam said, cutting him off. "I admit that I was feeling a bit….emotional last night and I'm sorry. It's just that I felt like you had given up on me before I even started to learn how to fight back."

"Never, Sam," Dean put his hand on Sam's arm. "And I mean that."

_"Then __show__ him." _

Dean remembered Missouri's words and leaned a bit to the right as he pulled something out of his pocket. He placed the bullet on the table between them. They both stared at it for a moment.

"Take it. I won't need it anyway," Dean said.

Sam looked at Dean and smiled. He took the bullet into his hand and studied the small metal object. Then he took Dean's hand off of his arm, put the bullet into Dean's palm, and closed his hand over it.

"Keep it. It means everything that you would let me have it, but I never really wanted the bullet. It just more or less represented your support for me. I _know _that I have it now," Sam said.

Dean suddenly remembered something that he said to Sammy once. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but it was still very relevant now.

_"Sammy, look….the three of us—that's all we have. And that's all I have. Sometimes I feel like I'm barely holdin' it together, man. Without you and Dad…."_

Without Sam, Dean didn't know who he was. And he didn't want to find out.

"Bitch," Dean said with a smile.

"Jerk," Sam said back, smiling now too.

Dean slipped the bullet back into his pocket, and hoped that that was the last time he would be taking it out for awhile.

"Let's go Sam! I do have a life besides babysitting the two of you!" Missouri yelled from down the hall.

* * *

About twenty minutes later, Sam had finished his deep breathing exercise and happily relished in the memory of the beach vacation for about another five without any interruption. 

"Very good, Sam. You feel ready to move on to the meditation exercise?" Missouri asked.

"Let's try it," Sam answered.

Missouri nodded. She continued the lesson after lighting a large purple jar candle on the dresser.

"Now that you are relaxed, I would like you to have a seat in the desk chair. Bring it over there," Missouri instructed. Sam walked over and pulled a chair out from a small wooden desk. He carried over and placed it down next to Missouri.

"Move it a bit to the left. We can't have any light from the windows on your face," Missouri instructed.

After repositioning the chair, Sam sat down and waited for further instructions.

"Before we go any further, I just wanted to say that although I've been practicing it for years, I have never directed anyone in meditation with abilities as strong as yours, Sam. We'll just take it a little bit at a time," Missouri explained. Sam nodded.

"Close your eyes and sit up straight. Proper spinal alignment allows the spiritual energy to flow freely up the spine, which is an important aspect of meditation. Place your hands in a comfortable position on your lap. Again think of the special word that you chose last night. Softly say it out loud. Then repeat the word softer, then in a whisper, then silently to yourself. You will find that you are relaxing deeper and deeper. Allow any and all distracting thoughts to move and flow. There is no need to try to control these thoughts…Let them pass and return to repeating your chosen word. Meditation is your time to be quiet and to be at peace…," Missouri instructed in her soothing voice.

Sam followed her directions. Once again, the volume of Missouri's words began to lessen, as if she was moving farther and farther away, the more Sam repeated his word "family" and drifted deeper into meditation.

_Sam opened his eyes and found himself in an open field. He looked up and around him in an attempt to recall this happy memory. The evening sky was full of rolling dark grey clouds and a crash in the distance signaled that a thunderstorm was imminent. The wind blew almost constantly, pressing the tall blades of green grass to the ground with each gust. To the left of him, a thick line of towering trees blocked his view of the dark forest area inside. He didn't remember ever being there before. This wasn't his memory. _

_"Help me!" _

_Sam whipped around when heard a voice yelling, from where he could not tell. _

_What was going on? This felt wrong. Very wrong. He closed his eyes to will himself to wake up or to at least hear __Missouri__'s voice again. It didn't work. _

_"HELP ME SOMEBODY!" _

_The panicked male voice was louder now and Sam could tell that it was coming from somewhere inside the forest. He decided to follow the voice, thinking that maybe his mother was showing him another piece of the past. He cautiously stepped into the forest, careful not to trip on any of the exposed roots. With another crash, the rain began to fall. The downpour was light at first, caught in the complicated meshing of the tree branches, but began to increase in intensity about ten minutes later. Sam pushed the wet hair out of his eyes and waited to hear the voice again to guide his movement. _

_"Leave me alone, please! What's going on?" Sam heard a man yell in desperation. The voice was close now, but Sam could not see more than a couple of feet in front of his face. _

_Sam tripped with an "oomph" and winced as he landed hard on his shoulder. Definitely not having a good time now, he thought. How is it that everything here seemed so real? Sam pulled himself up, using a nearby low branch for support, and continued moving as fast as possible. He slowed when he came to an opening in the trees. This opening allowed in just enough moonlight that he could see a man, his back to Sam, on his knees. His arms were up as if he was showing his surrender. Sam could see no one else around, however. Suddenly the black clouds from above dashed down from the sky and began to swirl around the man. Voices, so loud that they hurt Sam's ears, began to yell and shriek from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Sam clasped his hands over his ears, but continued to watch. _

_"You cannot win. You saw what we did to your precious wife. We warned you, but you did not listen. You did not think we were real. We are power, you are weakness. Give in to us and we will show you what it is to rule the world! You are alone and there is nothing left for you now." _

_The man began to sob, but did not speak. Sam had to get closer. Was this real or was it a dream? Should he merely watch or should he try to rescue the man? Before Sam had time to decide, the black clouds began to spin around the man with great velocity before shooting into the man's mouth and ears. Sam guessed that there was at least one hundred, but how was that possible? How could more than one demon possess one man? With a scream, the man collapsed to the ground. Sam rushed over to the man and stopped dead in his tracks when he was finally close enough to see the face. It was that of the yellow eyed demon! The man suddenly woke to reveal his yellow eyes, but they were full of fear and pain that Sam had never seen in his eyes before. Sam stumbled back in shock and fell, again painfully jarring his shoulder. He stood up quickly, but the man was gone._

"DEAN!"

Dean ran into the bedroom when he heard Missouri scream his name. Dean saw Sam collapsed onto the floor next to a desk chair.

"I can't wake him up! Something is terribly wrong!"

**Keep reviewing, my fantastic readers, and I'll keep typing as fast as my fingers can transfer the story from my brain to my computer. Thank you all!**


	19. Upper Hand

**Important note:**** For those of you who read my last chapter in the first half hour after I posted it, please note that I have since made a small revision. I forgot to take out a couple of lines of dialogue by the demons to Sam in my final edit before posting. Thanks for your understanding!**

"_DEAN!" Dean ran into the bedroom when he heard Missouri cry his name. Sam was slumped onto the floor next to a desk chair. "I can't wake him up! Something is terribly wrong!"_

**Chapter 19:Upper Hand**

"What happened?" Dean asked as he crouched down next to his brother to feel his pulse. It was strong and Sam appeared to be in no apparent physical distress. Had to be a good sign, Dean hoped.

"We were in the middle of a meditation exercise when he suddenly fell to the floor. I tried everything to bring him back to full consciousness and nothing has worked so far," Missouri answered.

"What can I do?" Dean asked. Please let there be _something_ that I can do, he thought.

"Call him back. He's closer to you than anyone else. If he's going to respond to anyone's voice, it would be to your's," Missouri explained.

"Call him back?" Dean asked, confused.

"Put your hands on his shoulders. Say his name and tell him that it's time to come back. Let's see what kind of response we get," Missouri instructed.

A few years ago Dean would have laughed at her and directed her the nearest looney bin, but Sam had opened up his eyes to the reality of psychics. Dean didn't hesitate to follow her directions to the letter and placed his hands on Sam's shoulders.

"Sam, we need you to come back now," Dean said. Sam still did not move and Dean looked up at Missouri.

"Try again, honey. A little louder this time," she advised.

"Get your pansy ass back here NOW, SAMMY!" Dean yelled. Missouri smacked him on the back of the head in irritation and Dean shrugged his shoulders in apology. Getting Sam angry enough to wake up seemed worth a shot, but it too had no apparent effect.

_Sam looked up from the spot where the yellow eyed demon had been just a moment ago when he thought he heard something. A voice? The demons? He cocked his head to the side, and waited. _

_"NOW, SAMMY!"_

_Dean? Dean! Was it possible that Dean was here somewhere too? He didn't even know where "here" was or if what he had just witnessed had ever even happened. He knew one thing, though. He had to find Dean. Where was his voice coming from? Please let Dean be okay, please, God! Sam began to run, not bothering to waste time watching his steps as carefully this time. He fell and fell again, four times total, until he finally burst out from the last of the forest trees into the open field. He shoulder still throbbed unmercifully and he noticed that his left arm was now bleeding and his right ankle felt strange._

_"DEAN!" Sam yelled. He heard no reply. _

"What's happening, Missouri?" Dean asked in complete horror as he watched a long gash tear down Sam's left arm from no obvious cause. Dean stood quickly, gun in hand, and surveyed the room.

"No, Dean! Call him again! Hurry! The longer he's under, the harder it will be for him to find his way back!" Missouri urged.

Dean shoved his gun back into the back of his jeans. He crouched down next to Sam again, this time his mouth inches from his little brother's left ear.

_"SAMMY! OPEN YOUR EYES NOW!" _

_Sam heard Dean's voice so clearly now, as if he was standing right next to him. Boy, did he wish Dean was standing right next to him. He suddenly felt the sensation of hands pressing on his shoulders and the dark sky around him began to brighten into a blinding white…_

Sam's eyes fluttered open and he was startled to see Dean's face inches from his.

"Thank God, Sam!" Dean said as he sat back on the floor in relief.

"I'm sorry, honey. I didn't prepare you well enough for that exercise," Missouri apologized.

"Sammy, let me look at you. What happened?" Dean asked as he moved to his brother to assess his condition. Sam pushed his brother's hands away. There was much to talk about first. Sam winced as he pressed against the wall and shimmied himself up to a sitting position.

"I did it! I understand so much more now!" Sam exclaimed with a smile as he looked back and forth between the two.

"Are you _actually_ smiling right now?" Dean asked in disbelief as he looked at his obviously battered little brother.

"Did what, Sammy?" Missouri asked, urging him to continue.

"That memory I saw was not my own. I think…I think I saw a demon memory! One that they didn't mean for me to see! By being relaxed, I was in control enough that I-," Sam said excitedly before Dean cut him off.

"Got yourself beat up and probably almost killed? Yeah, you really have the upper hand now," Dean said sarcastically.

"I admit that there was some...problems, but if you," Sam said as he turned to Missouri, "could move me on to other exercises, I think we could really get somewhere. Learn more. Maybe end this once and for all. Dean," he continued as he turned to his brother now, "I'm finally gaining control over them!"

"Other exercises? Forget it, Sam. You weren't in control of anything. This whole thing was a bad idea. We almost couldn't wake you up!" Dean yelled.

"Dean," Missouri said, quieting him to prevent the situation from escalating further. "Let's just get you patched up, Sam, and then we'll try to figure this all out together."

Sam didn't even feel Dean pulling off his shirt or notice Missouri leaving the room for the first aid kit. He was too busy planning his next move.

"Dean!" Sam said, the excitement still evident in his voice. "We're not going to have to follow the omens or other signs to hunt down the demons one by one. I can bring them all together."

"How?" Dean asked as he carefully pushed up Sam's right pant leg and felt his foot and ankle. Sam jerked his leg away in reflex to the pain.

"In me!" Sam answered.

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked, stopping his tending to Sam's injuries for a moment. "Have you gone completely mental?"

"I saw the Yellow Eyed Demon in the vision, memory, whatever you want to call it. I mean I saw the _man_ possessed. Dean, he had his hands up in surrender to the demons, begging for mercy. Sobbing. I…I heard the demons say that they did something to his wife. That they warned him. I saw maybe a hundred or more demons enter his body. I-," Sam hurried to get the words out, but Dean cut him off before he could finish.

"Sammy. Just relax okay? You're not making much sense," Dean said.

Sam studied Dean's face for a moment. Why didn't he seem more excited? Didn't he understand what a breakthough this was? Instead Dean looked at him as if…as if he thought he really _wa_s mental.

"Dean, please. It _does_ make sense. I don't know why I didn't figure it out sooner! That's why dad left you the bullet for the Colt. If I fail, that bullet may be the only thing that will be able to kill me, just like it was the only thing that was able to kill the Yellow Eyed Demon. The demons are not looking to just communicate through me, but _possess_ me. That's why the Yellow Eyed Demon was so powerful. He had at least a hundred demons inside of him. I saw it in the memory! The demons don't want a soldier in me anymore, Dean. They want a replacement for the Yellow Eyed Demon to carry out their plan! With Missouri's help, I can figure out what that is and stop them!"

Dean still didn't say anything, but Sam recognized the look of complete shock on his brother's face.

"I'm not mental," Sam said as he stood up. He stumbled back against the wall when pain exploded from his ankle. Dean got up quickly to aid his brother. "Didn't you hear what I just said? I'M NOT MENTAL! "

**Please keep reading and reviewing. I much appreciate them! More of the Winchester boys, action, and secrets revealed in the next chapter. I promise!**


	20. Point of No Return

**Chapter 20: Point of No Return**

"Okay! You're not mental. Don't get your panties in a bunch!" Dean said as he rushed to offer Sam his support. "Take it easy, will you? Please!"

He helped Sam hobble over to the bed and eased him down onto the mattress.

"You said that I have your support!" Sam exclaimed.

"You _do_ have my support, _but_ that support ends when your plan turns into a suicidal mission. Even if you do somehow get the demons to enter your body without you losing all control, what do you plan to do after that?" Dean asked.

"Well, I haven't thought it all out yet, but-," Sam said after thinking a moment.

"Exactly Sam. I don't see any other way for this to end without you dying. I told you this once before when we were still hunting the Yellow Eyed Demon. If it means you getting hurt or killed, forget it. I will not lose you again. I _can't_ go through that again.We'll find another way. I'm your older brother. Let me do my job to protect you. "

"Winning the war and saving you are _my_ jobs. Let me do _them_," Sam said.

Missouri wheeled back into the room with the first aid kit and handed it to Dean.

"Missouri, can you please get Sam an ice pack? I think his ankle is just sprained, but we'll have to keep an eye on it," Dean said.

"I'll be right back with it, sugar," Missouri said and wheeled out of the room again.

Dean pulled the chair next to the bed and sat down. Dean was used to this kind of work. He, Sam, and his dad had endured a lot of injuries over the years while hunting, and it had usually fallen upon him to tend to them. Forever the caretaker. It was the role he was used to and fell back into easily.

"Tell us what you saw while meditating, Sam," Missouri asked as she wheeled closer to the bed and handed Sam the ice pack.

Sam placed the ice pack on his ankle and began to relay his experience. Engrossed in the story, Sam didn't notice the ice pack sliding off of his leg or Dean repositioning it without hesitation.

About an hour later, Sam was as best patched up as Dean could do and was sleeping soundly. Missouri's first aid kit was short of a few things, but luckily Dean had swiped some necessities from a hospital during one of their last hunts. As he watched Sam sleep, he was glad that he took the extra risk of breaking into the nurse's med cart that day. The pain meds gave Sam a relief from the pain and Dean a relief from Sam. He needed time to think. He must be mental because Sam's theory about the demons did actually make _some_ sense. That was the scariest thing of all. What if it was true? Another question was what if there was no way to avoid Sam's destiny? No. He didn't believe in destiny. He believed in reality. It is what you make it. And he would make sure that it involved Sam alive.

_Sam knew he was asleep. He remembered falling asleep with a little bit of help from the pain meds. Well, maybe a lot of help. So much help that he no longer felt any pain anywhere. In a way, his body seemed almost disconnected from him, a relaxation that he likely could never have achieved on his own. He was going to do it, even though he knew Missouri said he wasn't ready and Dean would be livid. He probably would never be completely ready anyway, nor would Dean. He was going to do it…_

Dean quietly shut Sam's door and walked to the living room. He found Missouri near the front door, struggling to put on her coat.

"Here. Let me help you," Dean said as he helped guide her arms into the sleeves.

"My, my. There is a gentleman inside you, isn't there?" Missouri said with a smile.

Dean smiled too and sat down on the couch slowly. Maybe he should take some of the painkillers too.

"Don't forget to take care of yourself, Dean. You are Sam's greatest strength against the demons," she said.

Dean nodded. Greatest strength and greatest weakness, he thought, remembering Bobby's words.

"I'm sorry that I have to go. My sister is taking me to my doctor's appointment," Missouri said. A horn honked outside. "There she is!" Missouri said.

"I'll wheel you out," Dean said as he got up and opened the front door for her.

"You'll do no such thing! You and my sister are so alike. Both want to turn me into an invalid! It took me a good fifteen minutes to convince her to wait for me in the car," She said as she wheeled into the open doorway. "Be careful, Dean. I feel an uneasiness in the house that I can't put my finger on. Maybe I shouldn't go out at all," She said, pausing right outside the door. The horn honked again.

"Missouri! Should I come get you?" Dean heard a woman call from the street.

"I'LL BE RIGHT THERE!" Missouri yelled. "Good Lord," she said more quietly. "Give a girl a minute!"

"Go ahead. We'll be fine. Take care of yourself, too," Dean said.

"Okay, honey. I'll be back soon," She wheeled herself down the path and Dean shut the door behind her.

Dean sat back down on the couch and pulled out his cellphone. It was time he called Bobby. He needed some help, a new perspective. Bobby was just the one to give it.

"Bobby? It's Dean. How's it going?" Dean asked.

"We're doing okay kid. How about you and Sam?" Bobby replied.

"We're both hanging in there," Dean said, glad to hear the older man's voice. "Sam's got a theory that I wanted to run past you."

"Shoot," Bobby said.

_Sam found himself walking on his old street in Lawrence, Kansas. Even in the dark, he recognized the houses. One lone streetlight shone in the distance. The one in front of his old house. The one he had seen from the nursery window in the vision. As he walked closer, he could see the shadow of a person stretching long across the black pavement, but he could see no one standing there._

_"Sam. We've been waiting for you. We know what your plan is and we don't want to stop you. Let us in. Together we are strong." _

_Sam looked around and a figure stepped out from behind the streetlight. It was a man. _

_"Why should I?" Sammy asked, about ten feet from the man now._

_"We can show you what real power is. We can also show you what real pain is," The man answered, smiling now. Sam remembered that white smile. Sam recognized him as one of the possessed men who attempted to stop him and Dean from entering Missouri's house._

_Sam knew what he meant. _

_"You can't kill Dean, he's already been promised a year," Sam said, anger threatening to build up inside of him. He had to stay relaxed or he would give up any control that he had gained. He willed his heartbeat and breathing to slow and he was successful._

_"Oh, we won't kill him. He'll just wish he was dead," The man smiled. Sam's memory flashed on the memory of his father attacking Dean when he was possessed by the Yellow Eyed Demon. He would never forget Dean's words, or the blood pouring from his mouth. _

_"Dad! Dad, don't you let it kill me!"_

_"And if I come with you?" Sam asked, trying to buy some time until he could decide on his next move. _

_"It will begin. We have great plans for you. You will be the one to release the others. To organize All to release Hell to Earth. It will be a great honor," The man said, smiling again. _

_I can do it. I can beat them. I can do it, Sam repeated to himself. He already had great strength. Missouri said so, didn't she?_

"Wow. That's…pretty wild. Sounds like you two need some backup. You want me and Ellen to come to you?" Bobby asked.

"No. Let's wait a bit for that. I think it's safer for us to be separated right now in case…" Dean paused for a second, but didn't finish his sentence. Bobby didn't ask him to finish it either.

"You got it. I'll do some research on what you told me and give you a call tonight or tomorrow morning. Okay?" Bobby said.

"Yeah, thanks Bobby," Dean hung up the phone after he heard it click on Bobby's end. Having people have your back was good. He just hoped Sam remembered that. He leaned back against the soft cushions and closed his eyes for a moment. Just for a moment…

_"Take your brother outside as fast as you can! Don't look back! Now Dean, go!" Dean's father instructed him. _

_Dean held his little brother wrapped in a blanket as tight as he could. Even at four years old, he understood the importance of his job. Dean hurrired downstairs, careful on the steps that were still a bit too big, as his father ran back into the nursery. _

_"It's okay, Sam," Dean said. Daddy will make it okay. Daddy will save Mommy._

_Dean looked up at the windows as they exploded in flames. He looked down again at his little brother and the blanket was empty! He lowered the blanket to the ground and sifted through it with adult hands. No sign of Sammy._

_"Dean."_

_Dean turned around at the sound of his brother's voice. Sam walked out from behind their house as the sounds and smells of the burning house, sirens, and crowd begin to fade away. _

_"Sammy?" Dean asked in confusion. This wasn't right. He's wasn't four and Sam wasn't six months old. _

_"I can do it, Dean. I promise," Sammy said, tears in his eyes. _

Dean shot up on the couch, not even remembering falling asleep, still in the groggy state when dream and reality are not yet completely separated. He ran to Sam's room and threw open the door. Sam was gone.

**Only one or two chapters left now, depending on what comes out of my brain! I promise you won't be disappointed! Please continue to read and review. Thank you everybody!**


	21. Lay Me Down to Sleep

**Chapter 21: Lay Me Down to Sleep**

As soon as the "yes" left Sam's lips, black clouds shot down from above, as if the night sky was splintering apart like a shattered mirror. They blasted into him with such great force that he collapsed, struggling to breathe and regain his balance. As if he was drowning, Sam was besieged by the demons until he no longer had access to his movements, thoughts, or even memories. His mother's face, his father's arms around him, Jessica's kiss, and Dean's deafening Metallica music flashed in his mind and then vanished. Blackness engulfed him and he no longer knew them or even himself.

The young man rose and smiled, his yellow eyes narrowed with the movement. The first of many victims, and victories, to come. The time had come. It was to begin. When it was completed, all of Earth would be their playground.

* * *

"SAMMY!" Dean yelled into the empty bedroom. 

He slammed his fist on the doorframe and then ran through the house, continuing to yell his brother's name. There was no answer and no sign of Sam. Not even a smudge of sulfur or a knick knack out of place. He walked back into the bedroom and sat down on the bed. Dean could still see the impression on the pillow where his little brother's head laid only an hour before. Had the demons taken Sam or had he gone willingly, still believing he was strong enough? Dean wasn't sure, but if his dream was any indication, he was betting on the latter.

He took out his cell phone again and flipped it open. He pressed number two, Sam was number one, and listened to it ring.

"Dean? I don't have anything yet-," Bobby answered.

"Bobby," Dean said, interrupting him, barely able to control the emotion from swallowing the word.

"Where are you?" Bobby asked. He recognized that tone. The same one John had when he called to tell him about Mary so many years ago.

After giving Bobby Missouri's address, Dean jumped into the impala and drove down the house lined street. A memory came to mind as he scanned the neighborhood for the right spot.

_"I want you to watch out for Sammy, okay?_" Dean remembered his father saying in the hospital during their last conversation.

_"Yeah, Dad, you know I will. You're scarin' me._" Dean remembered answering.

_"Don't be scared, Dean,"_ His father had said.

Dean was scared then. All he felt now was rage so intense that it threatened to overwhelm him. He would save Sam, just has he had done so many times before, without fear, without mercy.

In a nearby wooded area about ten minutes away, Dean slowed the impala to a stop on the empty dirt road. Grabbing the necessary items out of the trunk and his wallet, he buried them at the crossroads and waited. As far as he was concerned, they broke the deal when they took Sam. No way was he going anywhere in a year. He needed all the time he could get to save Sam and stop them once and for all. He looked all around him and waited.

"Get your ass here NOW, bitch!" Dean yelled.

"So happy to hear that you missed me so much, lover boy," a young woman said as she walked down the road toward him, a road that was empty a moment ago.

She was barefoot, wearing a simple long black sleeveless cotton dress, and her long auburn hair fell in waves around her shoulders. Pretty except for the piercing red eyes and evil smile.

"_You_ broke the deal. You have Sam so I want my soul back. I-"

"Already done, sweetie. It was the last thing _your_ Sam demanded before he joined us. We have you to thank for that. He was really holding out, stronger than even we could have imagined, until we made him an offer that he couldn't refuse. Your life for his control. We never really wanted your tarnished soul anyway," she said as she moved to inches from his ear.

"Don't tell anyone, but secretly I'm glad. I haven't had enough of the Dean torture channel just yet. Now I'm guaranteed a lifetime of entertainment."

She tongued his ear before stepping back a few feet, still smiling.

"Go to hell," Dean seethed.

"Won't be a hell for much longer, sweetie. At least not for us. Hell will be unlocked. The Trojan horse is coming."

She threw her head back and laughed. Before Dean had the chance to ask her more, the laugh was soon replaced by a scream as the woman fell to the ground. A black cloud rose to the sky and vanished.

"What's going on?" the woman asked, looking up to Dean with frightened tear- filled eyes.

* * *

Hours later, Dean, Missouri, Ellen, and Bobby sat around Missouri's kitchen table in silence. Dean had filled them in on the details and they had searched through book after book and surfed through just as many websites. The conclusion was still the same. They had nothing. 

"Dean, something will turn up. We'll get him back _and_ waste the bastards," Ellen said supportively.

Dean's eyes did not leave the laptop screen, but he clenched and unclenched his jaw.

"All I know, honey, is that he is nowhere near here, nor is any negative energy. I'm sorry I can't be of more help. I feel responsible. If I hadn't tried to teach him-," Missouri began.

"We would have no hope of ever getting him back," Dean finished her sentence as he closed the laptop."Thank you for all of your help."

"Where's the Colt, Dean?" Bobby asked since no one else had yet.

Dean's eyes narrowed at him in anger, but Bobby did not look away. It was a question that had to be asked. The Colt represented the last resort that no one wanted to take, but that everyone knew was a real possibility.

"I buried it with the bullet in the backyard. It's still there. I checked when I got back," Dean answered.

"Good. Well, it's a waiting game for now folks. We'll look for the same signs John used when hunting down the-," Bobby stopped, aware of what was about to come out of his mouth.

"Say it Bobby. The yellow eyed demon. Now Sam's what we're hunting. How f'ed up is that?" Dean said.

Dean stood up quickly, the chair violently pushed back on the floor with the motion.

"I'm not just going to sit here. There must be something we can do!" Dean said.

"All right," Bobby said."Let's go over what the demon said to you one more time," Bobby suggested.

"We've already been over this. Unlocking Hell. Trojan horse. She said nothing that will help us find Sam. I feel like we're just wasting time!" Dean responded, but still sat back down.

"Wait!" Bobby said, as he leaned in closer to the table. "Trojan horse? You didn't mention that before."

"If my memory serves me right, the Trojan Horse was part of the myth of the Trojan War. The Greek army built and then hid inside a giant hollow wooden horse that the Trojans accepted as a gift of their surrender. Once inside the city gates, the Greeks charged out of the Horse and destroyed Troy. Bobby, do you think that myth could have something to do with Sam?" Missouri asked.

"She was just playing with my head as usual," Dean said.

"Maybe, maybe not," Bobby said.

Bobby was quiet for a moment as he tapped his pen on the table.

"You got something?" Ellen asked.

"I'm not sure," Bobby said before pausing again. "We know that Sam thought that all of the demons meant to possess him at the same time. Probably because of his exceptionally strong psychic abilities, this extraordinary possession was possible. Therefore, Sam's possession makes him significantly more powerful than would be expected for one person, even if possession was suspected. A sneak attack. The element of surprise," Bobby said.

"The Trojan Horse," Dean said, following Bobby's train of thought.

"I don't know. It could be nothing. But I think it's worth a shot to look for somewhere that some type of sneak attack would be key to opening a door or portal to Hell. Dean, I'll search my books, but I'll need you to man the laptop," Bobby said.

"You got it, Bobby," Dean said, eager to continue their search for Sam.

Around 3:30 AM, long after Ellen and Missouri had gone to bed, Bobby looked up from one of his books.

"The New Melleray Abbey in Peosta, Iowa," Bobby said.

"What, Bobby?" Dean said, as he pulled his weary eyes away from the laptop screen.

"The New Melleray Abbey in Peosta, Iowa," Bobby repeated as he turned the old book to show Dean a picture.

A pencil sketch depicted four three story buildings set in a square with a courtyard in the center. A chapel extended out of the right side of the square.

"This Abbey was founded on July 16, 1849, when the first six monks arrived and settled in the area at the invitation of Bishop Matthias Loras. Many of the monks worked in farming, as much of their food came from the fields surrounding the Abbey. The Abbey was also well known for high-quality wooden caskets and urns. Legend has it though, that the real reason the Abbey was built was to surround and guard an underground portal to Hell. A portal that is said to be accessible only to one, but requiring the power of many. Sound like anyone we know? No signs of any demon activity on the grounds have ever been documented so no one gave the legend much validity. Dean, can you do some research on the computer? See if you can pull up anything recent about the Abbey?" Bobby asked.

"Sure," Dean said he turned back to his laptop.

"Bobby," Dean said about forty five minutes later. "A newspaper article from Peosta, Iowa reported that the monks recently had a raging fire on their propery that destoyed all of their crops. The article continues to say that hundreds of dead animals have been found surrounding the Abbey and electrical problems have been reported in all of the buildings. The monks have closed the Abbey to all visitors until further notice."

Dean looked at Bobby as he closed his laptop.

"Well, they're about to open the door for us," Dean said as he stood.

"Dean, we don't even know if that's where he's going," Bobby said. "We should do some more research about-,"

"It's all we have. I'm going. You can stay if you want," Dean said.

Bobby looked Dean in the eye for a good thirty seconds.

"Okay. Whatever you want, Dean. It's your show. I"ll go wake Ellen and you wake Missouri," Bobby said as he also stood up.

About twenty minutes later, everyone was sitting together in the living room. It was a somber moment. Dean knew that everyone was likely thinking what he was thinking. It was a good possibility that this was the last time all of them would be in a room together for a long time. Maybe ever, if things went very wrong instead of very right.

"Ellen, can you stay here with Missouri?" Bobby asked.

"I don't need protecting!" Missouri protested. "I'm not an-"

"Invalid," Dean finished her sentence. "We know. But believe me, Missouri. We'd feel a lot better if Ellen stayed with you. Please," Dean said, hoping she would agree.

"Fine," Missouri said reluctantly after a few moments. "But only because we both love to cook and I could sure use some new recipes to spice up my repotoire."

"Okay. Dean, I think we should take separate cars and separate routes. Better insurance that at least one of us will get there," Bobby suggested. "Let me go grab the map out of my truck."

"I'll come with you Bobby, to get the rest of my stuff," Ellen said.

Bobby and Ellen left the room, leaving Dean and Missouri alone once again.

"Honey, I have faith that Sam will prevail. He has not given up. I know that,"

"You said you couldn't feel him anymore. How could you possibly know that?" Dean asked, growing tired of her positive thinking. He found more strength in anger at the moment.

"I know that because I know Sam. How about you?" Missouri asked as she wheeled away from the table.

Dean sighed. She was right. Sam deserved his support too, just as he had promised.

* * *

Dean raced the Impala down the empty road, Bobby taking the main, direct route. Dean was glad not to have to fight with traffic or dodge idiots too busy on their cell phones to pay attention. It was still dark out, and the Impala's headlights often provided the only light on the roadway. Red eyes flashed in the middle of the road. Dean slammed on the breaks, swerving onto the rocky shoulder. Dean shook his head as a deer darted across the road. Damn animals. He hit the gas to back up the Impala back onto the road, but the wheels merely spinned. Stuck in the rocks, Dean thought. He opened the door to get out of the car, but not before grabbing his gun on the passenger seat. The passenger seat where Sam used to sit. Where Sam will sit again, Dean thought as he stepped out of the car. He looked around and saw nothing suspicious. He walked around to the back of the car and crouched down to look at the tires. No way could these rocks make the wheels spin like that. He shook his head in confusion as stood up. He was startled to see Sam standing a few feet away from him, his head down. 

"Jesus!" Dean said, stumbling back against the car. He raised his gun in reflex.

"Not Jesus," Sam said as he raised his head to reveal yellow eyes. "Try again."

Dean was roughly thrown up and back against the Impala. Sam flicked his eyes to the right and Dean's gun went sailing out of his hands and skittered across the roadway. Dean tried to move, but found that he was pinned against the car. Stong hands grabbed Dean's shirt and pulled him inches from Sam's mouth.

"Your problem is that you don't know when to stop. We already gave you your life. What more do you want? More death on your hands? That can be arranged," Sam said.

Dean struggled to break free without success.

"Sam! Stop!" Dean yelled.

"Bobby, Missouri, Ellen, Jo…The list goes on. So many people we could kill. You know how it goes, hmm? You've done your share of killing, haven't you?" Sam said as he threw Dean down to the ground.

Dean grunted with the impact. The breath was knocked out of him for a moment before he regained the ability to speak.

"Sammy-," Dean said as he began to get up.

"I'm sorry, Sammy doesn't live here anymore," Sam said as he kicked Dean in the stomach.

Sam smiled as he crouched down next to Dean. He raised his fist and punched Dean in the face with such force that Dean's head snapped back. Dean struggled to stay conscious. Sam punched him three more times. Dean was helpless to stop him, his arms seemed pinned to the ground. Each fist felt like it was wrapped around a brick. Dean spit out the blood that had begun to pool in his mouth. Stars danced in front of his eyes and he didn't know how much more he could take before he blacked out.

"Oh come on now. This is too easy," Sam said as he raised his fist again.

His fist shook this time, frozen in mid-air as if some force was keeping it from hitting it's intended target. Sam stood and backed away from Dean.

"Sammy, fight it!" Dean yelled as he painfully moved up to a sitting position, finding that he was able to move freely again.

Sam continued to stand there, staring at Dean. Suddenly he blinked, and the yellow eyes were a blue green color again. Dean! He was so glad to see Dean, he felt like he could cry. So much had been unfamiliar for so long, it was an immense relief to see his older brother.

"Cold. Like ice inside me," Sam whispered, teeth chattering.

Did I do _that_ to Dean? Sam asked himself as he continued to look at his brother. He already knew the answer by the look in Dean's eyes. Sam looked at his fist, it was bloody. Dean's blood. Sam closed his eyes, a precious memory returning to him. He held onto it for a moment, knowing full well that it soon, along with all awareness of who he was and those in his life, would be gone again.

_Sam rubbed his shoulder, fighting back tears. He should have seen it coming. His dad told him to be ready. _

_"Sam? I know that you're only twelve years old, but you and Dean must know how to protect yourselves!" John said. "Now, come at me again. Focus this time!" _

_Sam looked at Dean who was watching from where he was leaning against a __nearby tree. Since it was only 5AM, the park was deserted. Dean nodded and Sam charged at his father again. John easily pushed Sam aside, causing Sam to to fall hard on his left side._

_"Sam, you okay?" John said as he rushed over to his youngest. _

_Sam stood up, ignoring the stabbing pains that shot up and down his body, and shoved his dad's hands away. _

_"Leave me alone!" Sam yelled as he rushed off. _

_Dean grabbed his arm before he could get far._

_"Sammy," Dean said._

_"Let me go!" Sam yelled._

_He was already embarrased, and didn't want to hear about it from Dean. Dean let go, but put his arm around Sam instead._

_"Look at me." Dean said after motioning for his dad to stay away. "You okay?" Dean asked._

_Sam nodded yes because he didn't trust his voice to answer. _

_"I wish that things were different. So does Dad," Dean said. "But he's right that we have to be ready for anything. Sam, no matter what, no matter how hard things get, I want you to know one thing. I will always be there for you."_

Sam did know that then as he still remembered that now.

"Sammy, are you in there? What's going on? What can I do to help you?" Dean asked.

"Sammy!" Dean said again as he stepped toward his brother. "Do they want you to go to the Abbey?"

Sam stepped back an equal distance. He didn't want to hurt Dean again. He had to play it safe, until the time was right.

"The demons think that I gave them control over me, but I wasn't saying yes to them. I was saying yes to God," Sam whispered, his voice shaking.

"Sam, please," Dean said, not wishing to waste any time. "Do they want you to go to the Abbey?" Dean asked again.

"Yes. And I will go. God told me that he has not placed more burden on me than I can handle. He told me that he loves me and knows that I can fufill my potential. He asked me if I agreed to continue on this path," Sam said, still whispering.

Dean strained to hear him, almost as if Sam was talking more to himself than to him.

"And I told him yes," Sam said, tears starting to roll down his cheeks.

Sam turned to run away, feeling that he could at least get as far away from Dean as possible before the demons overtook him again…Sam's thoughts were interuppted by Dean grabbing his shoulders and wrenching him back around.

Dean was momentarily stunned by how cold Sam felt.

"Sam, I don't care about any master plan! I care about _you_! Come back with me to Missouri's! We-," Dean didn't get a chance to finish his sentence.

"The blackness is returning Dean. I'm sorry," Sam said.

Dean could see it in Sam's eyes that he had no intention of coming back with him. In an instant, Sam flew out of his brother's grasp and hit the pavement with a loud smack. Dean watched as Sam was yanked to the shoulder and down into the brush below. Dean ran after him, but it was too late. Sam was gone. Dean stood alone on the street as the sun rose in the distance. This was not the end, Dean thought. Sam would be riding with him in the passenger seat again. That was _his_ master plan, everything else be damned.

**The story is almost complete! I'm sorry that I won't be able to finish it until next week because I'm going on vacation. Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	22. Marionette

**Chapter 22: Marionette **

"DAMN IT!" Dean yelled as loud as he could, enraged that he failed yet again at getting Sam back.

He listened to his voice echo through the trees that lined the empty street on that cold morning. He felt…defeat. He hated to even _think_ the word. Dean also thought of the loaded Colt in the trunk. Sam could have easily taken it, knowing that he must have had it with him, but Sam didn't. Dean almost wished his little brother had taken the gun, so he would not have to face the inevitable decision put forth to him by his father that last day in the hospital. Save Sam or kill him. How could something _so_ agonizing be said _so_ simply in as little as four words? Was Sam beyond saving yet? Was there really no other way if he was? No. He _had_ to convince Sammy to expel the demons and go back with him to Missouri's. Then he would _definitely_ chain him to the wall and throw away the key. Maybe wrap him in duct tape too, just to be on the safe side.

Dean eased himself back into the Impala and closed his eyes for a moment. Rage and hate that he felt towards himself continued to pulse through his body like bolts of electricity. He could feel himself shaking. He just wanted…for Sammy to be back with him where he belonged. He just wanted for it all to be all over. Could he somehow take Sam's place? Bargain with the demons? Even he knew that he had nothing they wanted and nothing to give. Dean opened his eyes and looked at himself in the rearview mirror. He hardly recognized the face that looked back. His nose was crusted with dried blood and his right eye was already turning purple. From his left temple down to his chin, bruising in the shape of Sam's fist and knuckles was already appearing. Why was Sammy so quick to do the right thing for everybody else, even managing to save his ass? He already knew the answer, remembering Sam's words from two of their earlier conversations. Conversations that seemed like a lifetime ago now.

"_All I can think about is how much this job has cost us. We've lost so much. We've…sacrificed so much," Dean had said. _

_"People are alive because of you. It's worth it, Dean. It is. It's not fair and you know it hurts like hell, but it's worth it," Sam had said. _

"Is it worth it?" Dean asked himself in the mirror.

He shook his head. No. Not if he lost Sam in the process. Not even close.

_"You're my big brother. There's nothing that I wouldn't do for you. I don't care what it takes. I'm going to get you out of this. Guess I gotta save your ass for a change,"_ Sam had said.

I saved you before, Dean thought, and I'll do it again and again and again. Because I am your big brother.

"Bobby," Dean said into the cell phone soon after he started up the car and pulled back onto the road. "I just had a run-in with Sam, literally."

Dean filled Bobby in on the details, this time leaving nothing out. Luckily, Bobby's drive had been uneventful so far. Dean heard Bobby sigh into the phone.

"You okay, Dean?" Bobby asked when Dean was finished recounting the event.

"Well, my face looks like roadkill, but I'll live," Dean answered.

He knew Bobby likely wasn't asking only about physical health, but Dean preferred that sarcastic, superficial answer.

"Poor kid," Bobby said after a moment. "The demons are expert manipulators, and making Sam think that God spoke to him to get him to agree to go to the Abbey is a prime example of that."

"I know. I didn't want to waste any time arguing with him about it. He was barely holding it together. It was…horrible," Dean said, remembering Sam's shaking voice and ice cold skin.

He shook the memory from his mind, instead deciding to focus all his attention on getting to the Abbey as quickly as possible and in one piece.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Bobby said.

"Thanks, but I don't need to hear sorry from you, Bobby. You try calling the Abbey to warn them?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, but the phones aren't working," Bobby answered.

"Big surprise. Well, let's hope that the rest of our trip goes smoothly," Dean said.

"I think it will," Bobby said. "They have Sam. They see no way that they can fail now. The demons probably only had Sam attack you to remind him what they were capable of should he welch on their deal. They probably want us to be there to witness their victory anyway," Bobby guessed.

"Yeah. Well, I plan on being a witness to something, but it sure as hell isn't going to be to any victory for them. I'll see you in a few hours," Dean said before he hung up.

He hit the gas and popped in a Metallica tape. He wanted to...needed to...get pumped. Sam could afford no feelings of defeat from him today. He smiled when the song "Seek and Destroy" blasted through the speakers. He sang along loudly and hit the steering wheel to the beat. He would be ready and he _would_ get Sam back this time, taking no prisoners.

_Running,  
On our way  
Hiding,  
You will pay  
Dying,  
One thousand deaths  
Running,  
On our way  
Hiding,  
You will pay  
Dying,  
One thousand deaths  
Searching,  
Seek and Destroy  
Searching,  
Seek and Destroy  
Searching,  
Seek and Destroy  
Searching,  
Seek and Destroy  
_

_There is no escape  
and that is for sure  
This is the end we won't take any more  
Say goodbye  
to the world you live in  
You have always been taking  
but now you're giving  
_

_Running,  
On our way  
Hiding,  
You will pay  
Dying,  
One thousand deaths  
Running,  
On our way  
Hiding,  
You will pay  
Dying,  
One thousand deaths  
Searching,  
Seek and Destroy  
Searching,  
Seek and Destroy  
Searching,  
Seek and Destroy  
Searching,  
Seek and Destroy  
_

_Our brains are on fire  
with the feeling to kill  
And it will not go away  
until our dreams are fulfilled  
There is only one thing  
on our minds  
Don't try running away  
cause you're the one we will find...  
_

* * *

Dean slowed the impala to a stop and parked behind Bobby's pick-up truck. Dean smiled as he got out of the car when he saw Bobby shaking his head at him. 

"It looks worse than it is, Bobby," Dean said.

"Good Lord, boy. Your face looks like a kaleidoscope," Bobby said with a smile, as he good-naturally slapped Dean on the back.

"My idea of camouflage," Dean joked. "What do you think, Bobby?" Dean asked seriously now, as he surveyed the tall black iron gate at the entrance to the private road of the New Melleray Abbey and the trees that lined either side of it.

The gate was closed, and a sign hung on it stating that the Abbey was closed to visitors until further notice. Dean pulled on the metal bars, but the gate didn't budge.

"Go on foot from here, Dean. Can't drive through trees, now can we?" Bobby said as he walked back to his truck to grab his gun and other necessities.

"How far is it from here?" Dean asked as he opened the impala's trunk.

"Twenty miles at least. The Abbey is in the center of the property. Hope you ate your Wheaties this morning," Bobby said.

"Great. Can this day get any better?" Dean asked, sarcastically.

A crash of thunder answered his question.

"_F--king_ great," Dean clarified.

He pulled out the Colt and studied it for a second. After looking at Bobby, he tucked it into the waistband at the back of his jeans. He slammed the trunk closed as the rain began to fall in sheets. In silence, he followed Bobby through the trees and back onto the private road. The sky was darkening quickly. He hoped that they would be ready for whatever was waiting for them at the Abbey. He hoped most of all that they would find Sam in control.

* * *

Sam felt his arm rise to rap on the large wooden door, as if he was a marionette and the demons controlled the strings. He wasn't sure why he was being treated to this observer-like status instead of the usual complete oblivion. Sam saw the door open after a few moments and the monk look at him with surprise. Sam felt himself jerk his head and saw the monk fly back against the stone wall before slumping to the floor. Sam prayed for the man to move or at least breathe. _Anything_ to show him that he hadn't just killed an innocent man. He knew the demons were in control, yes. But it was still him. He was still responsible. Was he doing the right thing? Yes, saving Dean was the right thing. Doing his part to make sure that the portal was never opened was the right thing. It terrified him that he didn't know what his final role was in it all or what was waiting for him inside the Abbey. But it calmed him to know that he would see Dean again, even if it was for only one more time. Sam's awareness began to fade again as he felt his mouth smile and his body step inside the building. He was drowning again...but he knew his torture would be over soon. One way or the other. 

**I haven't posted as quickly as I had originally hoped because I wanted to fit everything in one final big chapter. However, I want to post it quickly for you and keep it manageable for me, so I've decided to break up the last chapter into three smaller ones. Thanks for reading and come back soon for the rest!**


	23. My Soul to Keep

**Chapter 23: My Soul to Keep**

Dean sighed in relief as the tremendous stone complex was _finally_ in sight. With the unrelenting rain and black sky, the twenty miles had felt like a thousand. Every muscle had screamed at him to stop, but they had taken no breaks. If Sam couldn't rest, than neither would they. Dean was on edge before this "walk" and now he was _beyond_ wound up. Wound up and exhausted at the same time, if that was even somehow possible. He jumped slightly when the bell in the church steeple began to ring in the distance. He looked at his watch. It was midnight. How fitting, Dean thought grimly. Under _very_ different circumstances, he would have stopped to appreciate the obvious spine-chilling aspects of this entire property. Ancient apparently deserted abbey concealing the portal to hell with the bell ringing at midnight during a thunderstorm … The stuff horror movies are made of.

As they walked up the wide stone path to the main entrance of the Abbey, they could see the large brown wooden door was ajar, swinging slightly with each strong gust of wind. There appeared to be no people in sight and no electricity inside. Not good signs, Dean thought. He just hoped they would fare better than most characters in horror movies. Dean and Bobby, shotguns and flashlights ready, pushed the door open and stepped inside. Dean scanned the nearby area with his flashlight. Rain and debris spoiled the otherwise seemingly meticulously maintained wood floor.

"Jesus!" Bobby exclaimed, startled as his flashlight beam flashed onto the crumbled body of a robed man.

Dean walked over to the monk to feel for a pulse. Dean already knew the answer, as did Bobby. One dead monk, served up demon style.

"Looks familiar," Bobby muttered, remembering the dead hunters murdered by the demons at his place. "Where do you think we should look first?" Bobby asked softly.

"I say we follow the breadcrumbs," Dean whispered, pointing to a single set of wet footprints.

With caution they followed the wet footprints down the long hall, staying as close to the wall as possible to decrease their visibility. The pair continued to follow the trail down two flights of steps that ended at another wooden door. This smaller door was once painted green, but most of the paint had peeled off to reveal the dark wood beneath.

It was obvious that this neglected area of the Abbey was not in the visitor brochure, Dean thought. If he had been watching this horror movie, he'd be screaming with everyone else at the screen for them to turn around and go back. Dean knew that his defense mechanism did not make this situation any less real. It was as real as it could get. Life and death real. Slowly, Dean turned the rusty brass knob. The door opened with a long creak. The light of Dean's flashlight revealed additional steps, but nothing else was visible beyond the scope of the flashlight's beam.

"Ready?" Dean asked Bobby.

Dean wasn't just asking about the older man's readiness to walk down more steps. He was asking if he was ready for everything that was about to go down. He knew Bobby understood.

"Hoo-yah," Bobby answered with the Navy Seal's battle cry as he followed Dean down the steps.

After six flights down splintering wood steps, Dean and Bobby finally reached the bottom. About ten feet in front of them was a tall archway, flickering light spilling out from somewhere beyond it. The only sound they could hear was that of running water. They cautiously walked through the doorway. Lit torches on the wall provided them with just enough light to survey the layout of the massive room that was easily the size of a football field. The walls extended up at least one hundred feet, the true height of the ceiling lost in darkness. The room was empty except for a large fountain in the center of the room. Dean and Bobby walked closer to get a better look with their flashlights, careful to look behind them every few feet as well.

The circular base of the fountain, probably about twenty five feet across, appeared to be composed entirely of black granite . As they walked closer, they could see that there was a sculpture of some kind in the center. When they were about twenty feet away, the flashlight beams revealed that the sculpture was actually that of three figures, one man and two women. The figures were fashioned out of shiny black marble, with their arms and legs intertwined. One woman was kneeling, her mouth gaping open in an expression of absolute horror, as she looked at the other two figures. The male figure appeared to be smiling. Dean looked closer at the male statue and he could see that it was plunging a knife into the standing woman's chest. Water poured from her wound with great velocity.

"Ugh. Now that's…just awful," Bobby remarked in disgust.

Dean nodded in agreement. It was gruesome and Dean could not understand the purpose of such a sculpture unless this was…

"That's right, Deano. This is the portal to Hell. Right here," Sam said as he stepped around from the back of the figures, water spilling over the edge with his movement.

Yellow eyes and an evil smile flashed at Dean and Bobby.

"How amusing. They thought a little holy water would keep us away. Anyway, so glad you could join us. We know it's what Sam would have wanted. It's always so good to have family around, hmm?" Sam said, looking directly at Dean.

Sam smiled and then looked to Bobby.

"We prefer this to be a private conversation. You mind?" Sam asked.

Bobby's eyes widened before he suddenly dropped to the ground. Dean immediately rushed to him as Sam laughed. There was a strong pulse. Bobby appeared to be unconscious, but otherwise unhurt.

Dean stood, clenching his jaw. He held his shotgun tighter, although he was suddenly hyper aware of the other gun in his waistband.

"Whoopsy. People just seem to drop like flies around you, don't they brother? Considering your track record, people should know better than to hang around you," Sam said, laughing again.

"No one else has to die tonight!" Dean yelled as he took a step closer to Sam, desperately trying to stall for time until he could think of his next move.

Sam blinked and the yellow eyes disappeared, his expression switching from one of mocking to one of grieving.

"The monk _is_ dead?" Sam asked, his voice catching in his throat.

"Sammy, please, _please_. You don't have to do this! Let them go and we'll hunt them down one by one! As long as we're together, everything will be okay! I want…you back!" Dean pleaded as he stepped closer yet.

"NO! DON'T…don't come any closer," Sam begged, afraid the demons would return before he could say his peace. "I'm _so_ very sorry about the monk, but he _will_ be the last. I won't…I _can't_ be responsible for any more death, any more pain. I am the only one that can stop them now, but you _have_ to help me do it," Sam explained with tear filled eyes.

"Don't listen to them! You're stronger than they are. We can beat them like we beat the yellow eyed demon! You don't have to sacrifice yourself!" Dean insisted.

"That's just it, Dean. _You_ can stop them like you stopped the yellow eyed demon _by_ shooting me. I wish there was another way, but there isn't. I won't let them go free and I won't open the portal. So much…so much death because of me. Mom, Dad, Jess… but I won't have them take you too. Not you. I'm _not_ sorry about the deal I made for you, but at least they will not get what they want in the end. Please don't make me suffer anymore! Dad was right! You know what you have to do. You know what you promised!" Sam said, clutching the body of the standing female figure as if he would collapse if he didn't.

"What happened to your 'I can do it' attitude?" Dean asked, his voice shaking now as well.

Dean could feel it. He was losing Sam again and there would be no other chances this time.

Sam didn't answer. He couldn't seem to make his voice work anymore. Even without sound, Dean recognized the words formed by Sam's lips. I'm sorry.

"No. NO! Take me instead!" Dean yelled, hoping the demons would hear him. "Leave him alone!"

"Noble and brotherly, but no," Sam replied, his eyes yellow again. "You are insignificant. Weak. Sam is _everything_ we must have. You should feel honored that you are his brother. Honored too that you and the hunter will be the first two."

Sam stood tall once again, his face no longer showing any emotion or his body any weakness. Dean watched in horror as Sam turned around and wrenched the stone knife out of the female statue with unimaginable strength. He then smashed the knife into the mouth of the kneeling female statue and began to chant loudly in Latin. Bobby stirred and Dean helped him stand, not once taking his eyes off of Sam.

"What the hell is going on now?" Bobby asked, quickly ready for action again.

Dean reached to the back of this waist band and pulled out the Colt. His lip quivered and his breath began to quicken. He said it before. He'd rather die than kill Sam. But Sam had said what Dean had feared. Not killing him now was a fate worse than death. He pointed the gun at Sam's back with a shaking arm when an idea hit him.

"I'll shoot him in the leg, like Sam did to dad! The demons will be released from him! That will work, right?" Dean asked Bobby.

As Sam continued to chant, the cracks in the smooth stone surface began to widen until pieces of stone crumbled and fell into the water with a splash. Dean and Bobby watched in awe as the sculpture began to lower into the fountain.

"The portal must be in the floor underneath the fountain!" Dean yelled over the loud rumbling.

"Hurry up and do something before he opens the portal!" Bobby yelled back.

"Please work," Dean whispered as he moved the gun to aim at Sam's right thigh instead.

Suddenly, a bright ball of light shot out from the far left wall and stopped next to Dean. Dean's eyes widened when he saw it materialize into the shape of a figure…into a man…into his father! Bobby's eyes widened as well after his brain registered that his friend John was indeed somehow there in front of them.

"Dad?" Dean managed to say after a moment.

Without a word, his father grabbed Dean's hand and re-aimed the gun at Sam's back.

"NO!" Dean yelled and pulled against the force.

His gun would not budge from its new target.

Dean jumped when he heard the deafening shot.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?" Dean cried as he threw the Colt away from him.

Dean watched in horror as Sam flinched from the impact of the bullet. Sam braced himself against one of the now unrecognizable stone figures before turning back around. He looked down, where a red stain began to radiate out from his upper left chest. He looked at Dean with shocked yellow eyes. Sam opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out, instead bright red blood shot out of his mouth with each attempt. Lighting bolts shot out of his fingertips as his body began to convulse. The holy water began to boil and caught fire as Sam fell to his knees with a splash. Dean ran to help Sam, but the fire kept him from reaching his brother.

"SAMMY!" Dean yelled, as he shielded his face from the scorching heat.

"This… ends…nothing…but…your…brother's…life!" Sam yelled.

Suddenly the fire went out at once. A large black cloud floated out of Sam and disappeared. Dean did not pause to take any happiness in killing the demons when he saw Sam slump facedown into the water. Bobby and Dean rushed to pull the youngest Winchester out of the fountain, its water now a bright red. Red from Sam's blood. They laid Sam down carefully on the floor, Dean cradling his little brother's head in his lap.

"Sam, don't you die!" Dean yelled, his voice betraying his desperation as he pushed Sam's wet hair out of his face.

"Why, Dad?" Dean asked, as he wiped tears out of his eyes so that they would not fall onto Sam.

Sam breathed a gurgling breath in as his frightened eyes darted back and forth in confusion from Dean, to Bobby, and to his father. Dean wiped the blood from his brother's mouth, a pointless gesture as more blood took its place as Sam took a gurgling breath out.

The glowing shape of his father kneeled next to his sons as Bobby hurried to take off his jacket.

Sam took a gurgling breath in as Dean pulled up Sam's shirt with trembling fingers. Bobby handed Dean his jacket and he pressed it hard against Sam's wound.

"Dean-," Bobby said.

"No," Dean said to prevent Bobby from saying another word, recognizing the sympathy in Bobby's voice. "Go find a car. Go find someone. Do something... to help him," Dean said, struggling to get the words out.

Bobby walked away from Dean, knowing if nothing else it would give Dean, John, and Sam a moment alone.

Sam took a gurgling breath out and rasped "Dad-," as he reached a shaking arm up to his father's face.

"Don't you touch him! Don't you take him!" Dean yelled at his father, pulling his brother even closer.

Sam took a gurgling breath in…

_…and suddenly found himself in a place that was unbearably hot although he felt painfully cold inside at the same time. He looked up and down the long red corridor as he walked, but could see no end and no beginning. Horrific screams filled his ears and hands pulled him down to the shiny black floor. With great effort, he stood again and cried out as the pain in his chest grew to a crushing intensity. He felt compelled to start walking again, although he had no idea where he was going._

_"Sam, please honey. This is very important. Say the bedtime prayer with me," Mary begged as she was slipped her hand into Sam's, suddenly walking in step with him._

_She was so bright that it hurt Sam's eyes to look at her, but it made him feel so very good, so loved, for the first time in a long time. _

_"Please. It is so very important that you do this before you sleep," she said. "Just try. Here we go," Mary said as she started to say the prayer. _

_"Now I lay me down to sleep,  
I pray the Lord my soul to keep  
If I should die before I wake  
I pray the Lord my soul to take…"  
_

_Sam nodded and began to say it with her, as the surroundings around him began to blur and the screams quiet. He grunted and fell against the wall before sliding to the floor. It was so difficult to breathe. His mother, standing over him, held his hand tighter still and Sam was not afraid… _

_"__Now I lay me down to sleep,  
I pray the Lord my soul to keep  
May angels watch me  
through the night and  
wake me with the morning light…."_

Dean turned to Sam, who had started to whisper something too softly for him to hear. Sam's body suddenly went limp, and Dean could feel his breath leave him.

This is not happening, Dean thought, as he felt no more breaths and no pulse. Dean looked up at his father when he started to speak.

"I'm so sorry that it had to come to this Dean," John said tearfully as he stood.

"No, no…," Dean stopped in mid-sentence as he lost the ability to speak. His brother was dead in his arms again.

"I told you that if you couldn't save Sam that you'd have to kill him," John said.

"And? So he's dead now. WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME NOW?" Dean yelled as he pulled Sam into him again, tears falling down his cheeks. He didn't bother to wipe them away this time.

"I never told you why," John said gently.

"I DON'T CARE WHY!" Dean yelled. "Sam is dead! And in about two seconds I'm going to go make a deal for his life again," Dean vowed, anger now boiling up in him like a volcano ready to erupt.

"Because if you couldn't save him, I needed you to kill him so he _could_ be saved. There is nothing that I wouldn't do for you boys, to keep you both safe. _You_ know that," John said.

Dean's expression softened as he looked at his father. Dean did know that because his father made a deal to go to hell to save his life.

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked confused now.

Dean missed his father terribly and decided not to waste this likely last chance to talk to his father before he found a way to make another deal for Sam's life. Dean didn't even care what the deal would be. He would come out the winner if Sam lived again.

"The Colt can only kill what is truly evil, like the demons. Sam, however, is not evil," John said.

John paused and looked at Sam as if waiting for something to happen. Dean looked from his father to Sam as well as he gently laid his brother down to the stone floor. He stepped away from Sam, shaking a bit as he looked at his hands and clothes stained with his brother's blood. All of a sudden, Sam gasped and his back arched before he slumped back to the floor again.

"Sammy?" Dean said in disbelief as he watched his younger brother's chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm.

He unnecessarily felt for Sam's pulse that he knew was there, because he just had to feel it to truly believe it. He held Sam's upper body in his lap again to keep him off of the cold floor.

"Sam will no longer have any evil inside of him. The demons are gone. Even the blood that the yellow eyed demon dripped into Sam that night in the nursery has been expelled.The bullet and the Colt took care of that," John explained.

"Why didn't you tell me that at the hospital?" Dean asked.

"There was no time and little to back up my theory. And I certainly hoped that there would be another way to save Sam to spare both of you the pain of death. The road back for Sam will not be short or easy," John answered.

"What-?," Dean started to ask before his father cut him off.

"I have to go now," his father explained, now looking to the archway.

"Wait! Are you…okay?" Dean asked.

Why did everything have to be so damned hard?

A smile was his father's only answer. Dean was momentarily distracted by a beam of light flashing from beyond the archway. A moment later Bobby and a man wearing an identical robe to the monk they saw at the entrance rushed into the room. When Dean looked back to where his father was standing just a moment ago, he was gone.

"My God. It has happened," The monk said as he absorbed the scene in front of him.

"Sam's alive?" Bobby asked Dean in complete shock as he watched the young man's chest rise and fall.

"Yes. And I hope to God that we can keep it that way," Dean answered.

"Do not worry, my son. I understand the apocalypse that has been averted here tonight. Come with me and I will show you where the paramedics will be landing their helicopter," the monk said.

Dean turned his attention back to Sam, who he had unconsciously begun to rock.

"The only thing that you are responsible for now, Sammy, is yourself. Just hold on. Help is on the way," Dean whispered in his brother's ear.

Dean remembered his father's words and wondered if the hard part was really over, or just beginning.

**I hope you liked this chapter! One more to go! Thanks for reading and please don't forget to review!**


	24. Open Your Eyes

**Chapter 24: Open Your Eyes**

_"Sammy?" A soft female voice broke the silence. "Sammy. It's time to wake up now. Open your eyes."_

Sam struggled to obey, but he couldn't seem to muster the strength. Instead, he strained to hear the voice again. The voice that sounded so familiar, so loving.

_"It's okay, baby," she said. "Just try to open your eyes."_

Sam recognized the voice. It was his mother! Was she there with him? Where was he? What was going on? Was he dead or alive? What about Dean? Was Dean okay? Did he kill Dean? What did he do? What did he do?

His racing thoughts were suddenly railroaded by such incredible, agonizing pain that he couldn't help the moan that escaped his lips.

"He's finally waking up, doctor," a muffled male voice said.

* * *

"Is my brother okay?" Dean asked for the hundreth time as nurses and doctors bustled around him and the other sorry souls stuck in the ER of the Jackson County Public Hospital at the 8AM hour. 

He hated hospitals and he especially hated public hospitals. Was it possible that his face and body hurt even more since they arrived over five hours ago? He'd been poked and prodded by so many hands that you'd think they'd thought _he_ was the one near death instead of Sam. Bruised ribs, stitches, contusions, blah, blah, blah. He'd had enough. He had to find out what was going on with Sam. Dean swung his legs over the bed when he noticed something very important was missing.

"HAS ANYONE SEEN MY CLOTHES?" Dean yelled in frustration.

Again, no one answered. Dean shook his head before spying a pair of blue scrubs through an open door of a nearby supply closet. He smiled. He knew exactly how to get the answers he wanted. Paging Dr. Dean to the OR, he thought as held his gown closed and hopped off of the gurney to get changed.

"Dean!" Bobby hissed as he threw down the year old magazine when he saw Dean rush by, partly hunched over, past the waiting room doorway.

Bobby's back protested when he jumped up from the uncomfortable plastic chair to catch up with him.

"Where in the hell do you think you're going? And where'd you get that get-up?" Bobby asked after pulling Dean back into the large waiting area.

"Bobby, they won't tell me anything about Sam! I just wanted to find out how he's doing," Dean started to explain.

"Ellicot? Ellicot!" Someone called from the other side of the room.

"Just wait here with me. They have to tell us something soon. You won't do anyone any good running around the hospital stirring up trouble with one of your schemes. We're lucky the monk took care of the cops for us," Bobby reminded him.

"I know," Dean said. "But its been hours and these doctors-."

"ELLICOT!" Someone yelled out again.

"Wait! That's us!" Dean exclaimed as he turned to where the voice was coming from.

With so many aliases, even Dean sometimes forgot his name of the day. A doctor in green scrubs and a white jacket holding a clipboard turned to leave.

"Hey!" Dean yelled, hurrying through the throngs of people and rows of chairs. "Ellicot! Right here!"

"Dean, take it easy!" Bobby said as he grabbed Dean's arm after he stumbled over a sleeping man's outstretched legs.

"Mr. Ellicot, my name is Dr. Snyder. Please follow me," he said.

Bobby and Dean followed the middle aged man into a private waiting room two doors down the stark white hallway. Same back breaking plastic chairs, Bobby noticed as they sat down. He just hoped that the news they were about to hear was all good.

"How is he? How's my brother?" Dean asked quickly to avoid any further introductions or niceties.

"The surgery went very well and he is conscious now. He lost a lot of blood, which we replaced during surgery, and we were able to remove the bullet and close up the wound without any major complications. He is one lucky young man. He must have a a few guardian angels watching over him. He should make a full...physical recovery, but-," Dr. Snyder explained before pausing.

The smile quickly left Dean's face. He hated the tone in the doctor's voice. That tone was _never_ good. What could be wrong if Sam was alive?

_"__The road back for Sam will not be short or easy," his father had said_.

Dean shook his head, as if it was that easy to erase his father's words from his memory.

"But what?" Dean asked, prompting him to continue, bracing himself for the answer.

The doctor sighed as if thinking how he could dumb it down for Bobby and Dean.

"But…he does not seem to be appropriately responding to stimuli in his environment. For example, he does not track objects, follow commands, or answer questions.We are running a battery of tests now and preliminary results have ruled out a stroke. Extreme psychological trauma.is not uncommon following a life threatening injury, and that may be what's causing your brother's current difficulties. We'll continue to run more tests and we'll have a better idea after the first twenty four to forty eight hours."

"Look, can we just see him?" Dean asked, cutting off the doctor from continuing. "He'll be okay when he sees me," Dean decided as he stood.

"Take the elevator to the second floor. The ICU is to the right through the double doors. The attending doctor will be in later to see speak with you," the doctor said.

Dean was already out of the room before Bobby was finished shaking Dr. Snyder's hand.

Dean slammed the button and waited for the ICU's automatic doors to open. He stepped inside and saw about ten private rooms circling a large nurse's station, all with glass walls allowing unobstructed views to the patients inside. He scanned across the area until he saw his little brother in the sixth room to the right. Everything was quieter here and Dean did not run this time, feeling as if any sudden movements could cause someone to immmediately go into cardiac arrest.

He paused in the doorway to his brother's room and swallowed, willing himself not to be discouraged by the doctor's words. Sam was sleeping, a heart monitor nearby beeping a steady rhythm. A clear solution of some kind in a bag hung on a tall metal poll and dripped into his brother through an IV. Dean eased himself into the nearby chair, grunting softly. Sam stirred and his eyelids fluttered open.

"Sam?" Dean asked, placing his hand on Sam's arm, carefull to not disrupt anything.

Sam's pale face showed no emotion, as if it was made out of stone. He did not answer Dean and his eyes, although partially open now, did not look at him. They didn't seem to be looking at anything. Raw fear began to form in the pit of Dean's stomach.

"Talk to me Sam, please. I'm okay. You're okay. Everybody's fine now," Dean said reassuringly.

Sam still did not answer. What could be wrong if Sam was alive? Dean asked himself again. He was _so_ afraid of the answer, but whatever it was, he _would_ find it.

**The End**

Surprise! This is the end of "Burden", but stay tuned for the continuation of this story in the sequel "Bring Me to Life." I hope all of you are looking forward to more! Thanks to EVERYONE for reading and reviewing. I couldn't have done it without your support!


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